


Levanter

by hero_hero



Series: Side Effects [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Descent into Madness, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Obsession, Sad, Sequel, Stockholm Syndrome, Touch-Starved, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Relationships, read part 1 first pls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24816580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hero_hero/pseuds/hero_hero
Summary: Hyunjin is out for revenge against the Hans after what they did to him and Jisung a few months prior. He'll stop at nothing to get it, even if that means blackmailing, kidnapping, and destroying anyone who gets in his way.Or, now Hyunjin has the love potion, and he uses it on Jisung.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Side Effects [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795030
Comments: 10
Kudos: 125





	Levanter

**Author's Note:**

> TW // slight dubcon, abuse, character deaths, mentions of rape, unhealthy relationship
> 
> Here’s a sequel that no one asked for. (It was me. I asked for it.)
> 
> Fyi parts of this are extremely unrealistic and there are probably plot holes and typos, but to be honest I don’t really care.
> 
> Aaaand just a Disclaimer: this deals with very dark concepts and unhealthy, abusive relationships. I am not romanticizing any of it. Honestly the whole thing is super fucked up and the characters acknowledge that. If you’re uncomfortable with any of it, just don’t read it. Thanks.

_Is it too late? Can I break out?_

_They say it’s darkest of all before the dawn._

*

Chan always knew that his side business would get him in trouble one day, but in all honesty, he didn’t expect it to find him so soon.

He especially didn’t expect to step into his apartment, barely functioning off of three hours of sleep and after a long day at work, and find someone sitting in a chair by the windows, waiting for him. He thought it was Felix. He was wrong.

“Hello, Christopher,” a smooth voice said. “Or, I believe you go by Bang Chan now, isn’t that right?”

Chan froze, still several steps behind in processing the whole situation.

“You’re not Felix,” he said.

“No,” the person said. They flicked on the lamp next to him, momentarily blinding Chan, who blinked several times before his eyes adjusted. He was surprised by the sight. It was a young man, probably around the same age as Felix, with dark hair and perfect facial structure. He was dressed expensively, like a young businessman, except no businessman wore a ruffled button-up under their blazer. Maybe he wanted to look more like a young vampire or something.

Chan seriously wasn’t functioning well enough to process any of this.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” he asked, frowning.

“A potential business partner,” the young man said, smiling. Chan didn’t like his smile. It was too cruel.

Chan decided to play dumb. “Business partner for what? I’m not involved in any kind of ‘business’. I just work my ass off at the university all day.”

“Oh, you’re playing coy, I see,” the young man said. “I’m not really in the mood to play coy. I’ll get straight to the point.” He brushed some imaginary lint off his spotless pants. “You’re a full-time college student at the local university, studying biochem of all things. Very ambitious. You’ve thought about going into the medical field but have realized that you can’t afford it, so you’ve turned to _other_ means to raise the funds to get you through eight years of schooling. And by _other_ means, I mean drug dealing, of course. The only option, really. I suppose you’re handsome enough to turn to prostitution, but you’re too shy for that.”

Chan blushed, but the young man was just getting started.

“So, drug dealing,” the young man said. “Does well on a college campus. You could deal whatever you wanted and make bank. But you wanted to stand apart from everyone else. You wanted to offer something that no one else could, something that _also_ gave you a bit of experience in your chosen field. You looked around and, like any good entrepreneur, found a problem to fix. There’s not enough love in this world. So you created a drug for it.”

Chan just looked at him. He probably should have felt more terrified, but honestly, he was too exhausted at this point to really care. He was just waiting for this guy to finish his monologue.

“Love potions,” the young man said. “That’s your product.”

Chan shrugged. “Love is a chemical reaction. You can figure out a way to mass-produce it like anything else.”

“Fascinating,” the young man said. “And highly dangerous.”

“What are you here for?” Chan asked, crossing his arms. “You here to buy out my whole stock? I’ve got bad news for you. I don’t keep a stock. It’s too dangerous. I make it only to fill orders.”

“I’ll place an order,” the young man said, studying his nails. “But I’m here to make you an offer.”

Chan sighed. “Of course. You want me to work for you.”

“I do.”

“Not happening.”

“I figured. Which is why I did my homework.” The young man smiled. “You’re too young to be married. Your spouse is even younger. What’s his name again? Oh, right. _Felix_. He’s not from here, is he?”

“No,” Chan said shortly.

“Mm, and neither are you, but you’ve already got your green card…Is he here on a student visa?”

“Why do you care?”

“You know, visas expire, even student visas. It would be a _shame_ if Felix’s visa ran out, and then you had to find some way to keep him in the country…”

Chan swallowed; there was a lump in his throat already.

“To put it plainly, I’m going to make you a deal,” the young man said. “And if you refuse, well, I’ll just pull some strings and make sure that Felix gets deported.”

Chan’s stomach dropped.

“Thought that might get you.” The young man smiled. “You probably figured that marrying him after his visa expired would keep him from getting deported, hmm? Well, surprise surprise, that’s not the case. There’s a new law, see, where the government can deport whoever they want. Your sham marriage is no exception. Also, marrying just for a green card is illegal. So they could investigate and punish you as well, while Felix will be barred from ever entering the country again. _But_ if you agree to my terms, then I can pull some _other_ strings and make sure Felix gets his green card much faster.”

“Who the hell _are_ you?” Chan demanded, the real danger of the situation finally settling in.

The young man smiled. “My name’s Hwang Hyunjin. I guess you can say I’m an aspiring entrepreneur. And I think that with my connections and skills and your product, we can really make a lot of money from this.”

“I’m not looking to get a whole bunch of people addicted,” Chan scoffed. “I just wanted to find a way to make the world a little bit better.”

“I agree,” Hyunjin said. “The world could use a little more love. I agree with your vision one-hundred percent.”

“Oh, sure you do.”

“Just out of curiosity, have you ever used that potion of yours on Felix? Just to fool some people.”

Chan’s expression turned murderous. “ _Never_.”

“Mm.” Hyunjin smiled. “Anyways. We have a deal?”

“Hold on,” Chan said. Hyunjin arched an eyebrow. “What exactly are your terms? I’m not going to let you come in here and take all the money while I crank out the product. That’s not happening.”

“I don’t know if you’re really in the position to bargain.” Hyunjin tilted his head to one side.

Chan scowled, mostly because Hyunjin was right.

“But I’ll let you bargain anyways.” Hyunjin gave a wry smile. “Or, try to.”

“I get to choose the customers,” Chan scoffed. “And we split the money fifty-fifty.”

“No, we split it seventy-five to twenty-five.” Hyunjin was back to studying his nails. “You’re the twenty-five, obviously. And I decide how much we sell each ounce for and who we sell it to.”

“No,” Chan said. “No deal.”

“Say goodbye to your fake hubby, then.”

“Well, say goodbye to your love potion.” Chan narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess. You’re here because you need your own bottle of potion to use on someone who’s rejected you over and over again. They don’t want you, but you won’t take no for an answer, because you’ve never been told _no_ in your life. So you’ve come to me to get your love potion so you can drug them into loving you back. I know your type.”

Hyunjin’s gaze had turned dangerous.

“You need me, clearly,” Chan said. “I’m the only one who knows how to make these kinds of potions. I haven’t even written it down anywhere. If you report Felix and me, I won’t make a single drop for you.”

“Unless I let you choose who we sell it to?” Hyunjin arched an eyebrow.

“And we split it fifty-fifty,” Chan said. “You can set the price. I want half, though. We’re business _partners_. You’re not my boss. We make decisions together if we’re going to work together.”

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed into slits; he reminded Chan of a cat, calculating his next attack. Chan tried to look calm and collected on the outside, when in reality he was about ten seconds away from having a breakdown. He held his breath, telling himself to keep it together.

Finally, Hyunjin rolled his eyes and said, “Fine. Deal.”

“How long are we doing this for?” Chan asked as Hyunjin stood and strolled towards him.

Hyunjin smiled. “As long as we have to.”

*

When Hyunjin got home, the house was dark. He tiptoed up the stairs to the bedroom, where he silently opened the door. He stopped in the doorway, his eyes going to the person asleep in the bed.

Jisung was on his side, facing the door. Even from here, Hyunjin could see the way his brows were furrowed ever so slightly and how his cheeks looked even chubbier from where they were pressed up against the pillow.

The sight hit Hyunjin in the gut and stole his breath away. Jisung always had that affect on him nowadays. Hyunjin wondered when that would begin to wear off, though it had already been a month, and the intensity of the emotions had not subsided whatsoever.

After closing the door quietly behind him, he walked over to the bed and crawled onto it. He laid down behind Jisung, looped an arm around his waist, and pressed a soft kiss into the back of Jisung’s neck.

Jisung stirred. He stiffened at first, then twisted around to look over his shoulder at Hyunjin. The moment he saw him, his face lit up.

God, Hyunjin loved it when that happened. It put a smile on his face every single time.

“You’re home!” Jisung said, rolling over, only to yawn. “I was trying to—stay awake, but—”

Hyunjin laughed softly and kissed Jisung on the forehead. Jisung let out a pleased hum as he closed his eyes to savor the feeling. “Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s late. I didn’t expect you to try and stay up for me.”

“Wanted to, though,” Jisung mumbled as Hyunjin pulled him in closer. Jisung snuggled into Hyunjin’s chest, sighing contently. “I hate it when you’re gone for so long.”

“There was just something I had to do,” Hyunjin said, running his hand up and down Jisung’s back. “It’s done, now.”

Jisung just hummed again in reply, already dozing off again.

Hyunjin took a deep breath. “It’ll all be okay soon. I promise.”

Jisung didn’t respond that time. He had already fallen asleep.

*

Hyunjin woke up before Jisung the next morning. He always did. He had to.

He slipped downstairs, where the cook had set out breakfast in the dining room and opened up the French doors to let the warm breeze drift in. Hyunjin barely looked over the food before he took out the small bottle he had pulled out of the tiny, locked drawer in the nightstand next to his bed. He uncorked it and tipped it into the cup of coffee in Jisung’s place at the table. Just one drop. That was enough. He corked it again and slipped it into his pocket. Then he sat down at his place and took out his phone as he waited for Jisung to wake up.

Jisung dragged himself downstairs fifteen minutes later. He smiled warmly at Hyunjin, who smiled back, even though he studied Jisung’s face for any indicator that his smile wasn’t genuine. It was always nothing _but_ genuine, but Hyunjin couldn’t help it. The potion could wear off, and then a smile would be the only warning before Jisung attacked him. Hyunjin had to be careful.

“Morning, love,” Hyunjin said.

“Good morning, my prince,” Jisung replied. Still under the potion, then. He walked over to Hyunjin’s chair and bent down to kiss him.

Once he pulled away, Hyunjin gestured to Jisung’s place at the table. “Coffee’s ready.”

“Mm, coffee,” Jisung said, picking up the cup and sipping at it.

After that, Hyunjin relaxed considerably.

It had been the same morning routine for a month now. A month of Hyunjin drugging Jisung’s coffee with the love potion, just like Jisung had drugged Hyunjin’s tea all those months before. Hyunjin tried not to compare the two instances, but he couldn’t help it.

It was clear—Jisung’s situation was infinitely better than Hyunjin’s. Hyunjin had been kept in a dark, empty room for days on end, with no one but Jisung to keep him company. Jisung, on the other hand, got free rein of the house and all its amenities, like the arcade, the pool (both indoor and out), the movie theater, the gym, and all of the bedrooms. The only place Hyunjin didn’t allow him to go was outside. He couldn’t risk Jisung wandering off or being seen. No one except the maid and the cook knew that Jisung was here, and Hyunjin intended to keep it that way.

Jisung was _happy_. It was obvious. It shone in his eyes. And all it took was a change of scenery and a little droplet of love potion. Hyunjin liked to pat himself on the back for a job well done. He had saved Jisung's life, and as a result, Jisung had saved his. Hyunjin realized that all he needed to be happy was Jisung.

But…just because they were essentially living in a self-made paradise didn’t mean that it didn’t have its own problems.

The main problem, of course, being the potion itself.

Hyunjin was running out. There hadn’t been much potion left to begin with, and he had been extremely careful to only use a single drop a day, but his supply was dwindling. And, until a few days ago, he used to have no idea where to get more.

But that problem was solved, now. Hyunjin would have an endless supply of potion to give to Jisung for the rest of their lives. Though…he hoped he wouldn’t have to use it that long. One of these days, he wanted to stop giving it to Jisung. He wanted Jisung to love him back without it. So far, it didn’t look like that would be happening anytime soon.

A part of Hyunjin didn’t understand it. After all, _he_ had fallen in love with Jisung after just a few days of being in the potion. Admittedly, Jisung had used a lot more on him in a shorter time frame, but it still changed him. Hyunjin just wished it would change Jisung, too. They could be so happy together.

He just wanted Jisung to be happy.

If Hyunjin _did_ have to take Jisung off of the potion, Jisung would go through withdrawals. They would be severe. Hyunjin knew all of that. He only hoped that Jisung wouldn’t turn violent during it.

He was watching Jisung now, as Jisung happily ate his breakfast and sipped at his coffee and caught up on the news on his phone, the phone Hyunjin had bought him. He allowed Jisung to use it with only a few controls on it, just to keep him from posting anything. Luckily, Jisung wasn’t someone who posted to social media that much, if at all. The phone just served as entertainment for Jisung and a way for Hyunjin to contact him whenever he left the house.

“Can we go outside today?” Jisung asked, bringing Hyunjin out of his thoughts.

Hyunjin looked at Jisung, with his wide, hopeful eyes. He wanted to say yes. But he couldn’t.

“No,” he said, and Jisung visibly deflated. “But we don’t need to go outside. We have an indoor pool and a jacuzzi and a movie theater full of every movie we could ever dream of. Who needs outside when we have all of _that_ and each other?”

Jisung sighed. “You’re right.” He looked up at Hyunjin and smiled. “As long as you’re around, I don’t need anything else.”

Hyunjin smiled, reached out, and cupped the side of Jisung’s face. It was much more comfortable to do now that Jisung had gained healthy weight.

Jisung closed his eyes and leaned into Hyunjin’s touch. God, Hyunjin loved it when he did that.

“What do you say,” Hyunjin began, making Jisung open his eyes. Hyunjin grinned. “We spend the entire day in the jacuzzi?”

Jisung smiled, though this time it was a bit more seductive. “I love the way you think, my prince.” Then he leaned forward so his lips were right next to Hyunjin’s ear. He lowered his tone to a low, sultry whisper and said, “I haven’t been spending my free time watching porn for nothing.”

Usually a statement like that would be concerning. But Hyunjin knew exactly the type of things Jisung was watching. He was looking for ideas and had already used some of it on Hyunjin. Just the thought of it ignited a heat in the depths of Hyunjin’s stomach.

Jisung smiled again, his eyes dancing down to Hyunjin’s lap and back up again, a greedy glint in his eye. “Thought that might excite you.”

“God, I love you,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice already hoarse.

Jisung gave him a wink before sitting back in his chair. Hyunjin found it somewhat easier to breathe, but he already missed Jisung’s close proximity. He couldn’t wait to get him close again. Preferably even closer.

They took their time eating breakfast, even though Hyunjin couldn’t help squirming. He kept glancing at Jisung, too, who always smirked to himself but didn’t always meet Hyunjin’s gaze. It was one of the ways Jisung sometimes teased him, by playing coy. It definitely worked.

Finally, breakfast was over, and Hyunjin had to refrain himself from lunging at Jisung and scooping him up. He held himself back until they were right outside the indoor pool. Then he picked Jisung up, who let out a surprised but happy shriek and wrapped his legs around Hyunjin’s waist. He busied himself with covering Hyunjin’s face with kisses, always playfully avoiding Hyunjin’s lips, and occasionally sucking a mark into the side of Hyunjin’s neck.

They spent hours in that jacuzzi. By the end of it, Hyunjin was exhausted but blissed out of his mind.

He’d never felt this way before. Sure, he’d had a couple of flings and a few attempts at a serious relationship in the past. He’d had his fair share of one-night stands. But none of them could compare to Jisung.

God, _Jisung_. Hyunjin snorted as he got lost in his thoughts again when the two of them finally dragged themselves upstairs, cleaned up in the shower, and collapsed on the bed. A year ago, Hyunjin would have laughed until he puked if someone had told him that he’d be falling hard for Han Jisung of all people. He and Han Jisung were mortal enemies. Their families hated each other. Jisung couldn’t stand Hyunjin and Hyunjin couldn’t stand Jisung. He used to spread rumors about Jisung. Used to pay people to ask Jisung out or flirt with him or even have sex with him, just as a joke. Used to pick apart every single aspect of Jisung’s appearance or personality, always within earshot of Jisung, too. Used to want Jisung to hear him. Used to muse about all the horrible things he could do to Jisung and how to make sure it scarred Jisung permanently.

And now…he couldn’t believe he was such an awful person to Jisung. Jisung didn’t deserve any of that, especially after what his parents had done to him.

After what _Hyunjin_ had done to him…

But that was all in the past now. Hyunjin was better now. So was Jisung. And if anyone even _thought_ about speaking to Jisung disrespectfully, Hyunjin would break their nose, as a warning.

Hyunjin smiled to himself as he looked down at Jisung in his arms, already sleeping peacefully, exhausted from the activities of the day.

Jisung was _his_. And no one was going to take him away from him. Ever. He’d make sure of it.

*

The thing was, everybody hated Jisung, now more than ever. Hyunjin’s parents were no exception.

The few times that Hyunjin went home, his parents fussed over every single little thing. He wasn’t allowed to be sad or frustrated or otherwise _down_ anymore. God forbid he be the slightest bit upset, which was a sign that he was about to have one of his “fits” and needed to be sent to another room in order to calm down. All of these “signs” were proof that he was still suffering from his experiences at the hands of Jisung in the Hans’ basement from a few months prior. That called for them to reassure him that he was safe and that that despicable human being was where he belonged.

“He’s locked so far away in an insane asylum and pumped so full of drugs that it’s as though he’s already six feet under,” his father said at one point with a smile. “You’re safe, Hyunjin. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“But you’ll tell us if you have any nightmares, right?” his mother added, reaching out to run her hands through Hyunjin’s hair.

Hyunjin hated it when she touched him. He hated when anyone other than Jisung touched him. But he endured it anyways, otherwise they’d think he was being “too sensitive.”

He put on a fake smile now.

“I know,” he said. “They’re all gone. Sometimes I still get nightmares, but they’re not so bad anymore.”

“Just remember that Dr. Choi is there to listen if you need someone to talk to,” his mother said.

“I know, Mom.” Hyunjin’s smile held.

His parents both smiled back, completely unaware of how fake Hyunjin’s was.

“By the way, we are having lunch tomorrow with the Hans,” his mother said.

Hyunjin’s smile vanished. “Why.”

“They’re quite lovely people, actually,” she said, her eyebrows raised. “Honestly. We wasted so much time hating each other. Befriending our enemy is one of the best things we’ve ever done. I don’t know what I’d do without Mrs. Han nowadays. Also, the Kims might join us—you haven’t seen Seungmin in so long!”

“Probably because he’s been off at school.” Hyunjin scowled.

“Oh, don’t be so moody. You love Seungmin. He’s excited to see you.”

“Uh huh.” Hyunjin actually did like Seungmin. Seungmin was brutally honest. He didn’t waste his time pretending to be nice to people. Hyunjin could appreciate that.

“Tomorrow, at one,” his mother told him. “At the Sunshine Parlor. Don’t be late. And wear something nice. Do something with your hair—it’s getting so long and greasy—” She reached out to play with Hyunjin’s hair, but Hyunjin leaned away from her.

“I’m busy tomorrow,” Hyunjin said. “Can’t come.”

“Busy doing what?” his father snorted. “Shopping for more ugly impressionism art to hang in your room?”

Hyunjin’s scowl deepened at that; his father never understood art. He never understood _or_ appreciated _anything_ that didn’t fit in his idea of a productive, capitalistic society. To him, beauty and art were worthless.

“I heard from Mrs. Cho that you were spending lots of time up at the summer house,” his mother said. Mrs. Cho was one of the head maids at the Hwang household. She was also the biggest snitch and gossiper Hyunjin had ever met.

“I’m renovating it,” Hyunjin lied. “I think I want it for myself, since you two don’t spend any time there anymore.”

“I was considering selling it, actually,” his father said. Hyunjin knew that; it was exactly why he had chosen that house out of all of their other houses. Plus, he liked the location. “I suppose you can have it. Give you a place to fill with all of your useless art.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes but went with it anyways.

He did notice how his mother’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and knew for a fact that she was going to visit the house at some point. Oh well. He’d be prepared—she didn’t scare him.

He went back to the summer house where he kept Jisung that night, feeling too agitated and restless from his conversation with his parents to sleep. So he woke Jisung up. Said he needed to forget everything and didn’t even ask if Jisung was okay with it before he pressed Jisung into the bed and fucked him until he couldn’t think clearly anymore. Jisung was crying by the end of it, but Hyunjin thought it was just because he was overwhelmed. Hyunjin usually would comfort him, but he was finally too exhausted to do anything other than plant a quick kiss on Jisung’s cheek before passing out. He’d comfort Jisung in the morning.

Except, when Hyunjin got up the following morning and headed downstairs to put the love potion in Jisung’s coffee like always, he found an unwelcome visitor sitting in his place at the head of the table.

“Mom,” he said. “What…are you doing here?”

“It’s eleven,” his mother said, stirring sugar into the coffee cup that should have been Hyunjin’s. “I came to make sure you’d arrive to lunch today on-time.” She tapped her spoon against the rim of the cup before setting it down. Then she looked up at Hyunjin.

Her eyes were so cold. So calculating and piercing as she took in Hyunjin’s rumpled appearance. Thankfully he’d thought to put on some underwear and his silk robe before coming downstairs, but he still felt like she was seeing right into him. Like she was picking him apart.

“Ah,” she said. “So, that’s the _real_ reason why you want this house to yourself. And why you’ve been spending so much time here.”

Hyunjin didn’t say anything. Just stood there, refusing to let her think she got to him.

“Is it the same girl every night or a different one?” his mother continued, now picking at the grapefruit with her spoon.

Hyunjin couldn’t help snorting at that. “It’s never been girls, Mom.”

“I know, I had just hoped that the boy thing had been a phase.” She sighed. “Oh well.”

Hyunjin could hear Jisung moving around in the room upstairs. Any minute now he’d come downstairs, and Hyunjin’s mother would know everything.

Time to wrap this up.

“I don’t need you to escort me to lunch,” he scoffed. “I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.”

“Usually, I’d believe you, but after everything that’s happened and with your new mental state, I was worried you would have a fit and change your mind.” She gave him a sweet smile that didn’t really reach her eyes. “I figured you’d feel more comfortable showing up with your father and me.”

Hyunjin smiled back at her. “I’m fine.”

He heard the door to the master bedroom open. Jisung was already heading for the stairs.

“I’m not going to eat breakfast with my mother like this, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take a shower and get ready first,” Hyunjin said. “Try not to eat my entire breakfast.”

She shrugged, and Hyunjin tried not to run when he turned around and left the dining room.

He intercepted Jisung in the stairs. He quickly darted up to him, covered his mouth with one hand, and put a finger to his own lips with the other. Jisung looked confused but didn’t put up a fight when Hyunjin laced their fingers together a moment later and dragged him back up the stairs.

Once they were back in the bedroom with the door shut and locked behind them, Hyunjin let out a huge breath.

“Wanted another round before breakfast?” Jisung asked weakly. Hyunjin glanced at him and noticed how tired Jisung looked. He almost looked like himself. That made Hyunjin’s panic spike again.

“No, my mother’s downstairs,” Hyunjin said. “I don’t want her to meet you just yet.” He reached out and cupped Jisung’s face, noticing how Jisung hadn’t bothered to put on anything under his own robe _or_ tie the robe. That would have been a very uncomfortable situation with Hyunjin’s mother.

Jisung looked away, pulling his face out of Hyunjin’s hand. His entire body was rigid, like he was getting ready to bolt.

That was not a good sign.

Hyunjin forced a smile and said, “Tell you what. How about you go take a shower while I go get our coffee and breakfast and bring it back up here? Then I’ll join you. How does that sound?”

Jisung smiled stiffly. “Fine,” he said.

Hyunjin smiled at him one last time. Usually he would kiss Jisung, but he didn’t try that. Not yet. For some reason, the potion was wearing off right now. If Hyunjin didn’t get him his daily dosage, then Jisung would go through withdrawals. That was the _last_ thing Hyunjin needed today.

His mother was still sitting in the same place when Hyunjin ran back downstairs. He ignored her as he grabbed Jisung’s coffee mug as well as the plate full of food that the cook had set out for him.

“Breakfast the morning after,” his mother remarked as Hyunjin started to walk away. “I don’t remember you ever doing that for any of the others.”

“This one’s special,” Hyunjin scoffed over his shoulder before running upstairs as fast as he could without dropping anything.

Luckily, Jisung was in the bathroom, though he had shut the door behind him. Hyunjin could hear the shower already on, as well as Jisung still moving around in there. He quickly set the plate on the nightstand and grabbed the potion out of his robe pocket. He tipped one drop into the coffee, stirred it, and was about to slip the bottle back into his pocket when he noticed how light it was.

He lifted up the bottle to get a better look.

Completely empty. Great. Chan was supposed to get Hyunjin a new bottle of potion in a few days. At the time, Hyunjin hadn’t thought that he would last that long, and now he knew for sure that he wouldn’t.

He’d have to deal with that later. Right now, he had to deal with Jisung.

Jisung was already in the shower when Hyunjin went into the bathroom. Hyunjin wasted no time slipping off his clothes and stepping in to join him. Jisung didn’t look at him. Instead, he stiffened when Hyunjin touched him.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asked before pressing a kiss to Jisung’s shoulder.

“No,” Jisung said. “It was…too rough last night, Hyunjin. It hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin said, noticing how Jisung called him _Hyunjin_ now. “I thought you liked it rough.”

Jisung shook his head, still not looking at Hyunjin. “No,” he said quietly. “I’ve never liked it rough.”

“I’ll be gentler in the future.”

Jisung didn’t respond to that.

Hyunjin didn’t try anything in the shower that time. Instead, the two of them just quickly washed before turning off the water and getting out. Hyunjin couldn’t help watching Jisung as they both got dressed, though. Jisung didn’t look at him at all.

Hyunjin just hoped that Jisung would still drink the coffee later on. He didn’t want to have to force it down Jisung’s throat again.

“I have to go to lunch with my parents,” Hyunjin told Jisung while he was still getting ready and Jisung was sitting on the edge of the tub, staring off into space. “I’ll probably be gone all afternoon. Do me a favor and don’t leave the room today, okay? I think my mom suspects something and I don’t want her finding out about you.”

“Okay,” Jisung said.

Hyunjin wasn’t sure if Jisung would actually listen to him, but he locked the door to the bedroom behind him after he left. Just in case.

*

Lunch was awful. Hyunjin just glared at the Hans the entire time. Mrs. Han spent all of her time ignoring him and only talking to Mrs. Hwang and Mrs. Kim. Mr. Han was bold (or stupid) enough to look Hyunjin right in the eye and ask how he was doing.

“I’ve been better,” Hyunjin replied, still glaring at him, hoping he got the message.

_You’re a monster for what you did to Jisung and I’m going to make you pay for it._

Mr. Han just smiled and didn’t seem fazed by Hyunjin’s glare whatsoever. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said, while his eyes taunted Hyunjin, _I’d like to see you try._

“Let’s not talk about it,” Mrs. Hwang interjected. “Seungmin, how is school?”

Hyunjin shot Mr. Han one last glare. _Oh, you will._ Then he looked at Seungmin and tried to pay attention as Seungmin talked about his time at Harvard. He was pre-med. Going to become a doctor, just like his mom.

“Incredible,” Mrs. Hwang said in awe when Seungmin was finished discussing some of his courses and plans for the future. “Absolutely incredible. You are going to be so successful, Seungmin.”

Seungmin smiled politely, though he glanced at Hyunjin, who was back to scowling as he tried not to gulp down his second glass of wine.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hwang,” Seungmin said.

“Hyunjin, you should talk to Seungmin about pre-med too,” Mrs. Hwang said. “Imagine how successful you’d be as a _doctor_.”

“And not some lazy, worthless artist,” Mr. Hwang added with a laugh.

“I think political science is more up my alley,” Hyunjin said, swirling the wine around in his glass. He flicked his eyes up at Mr. Han. “Or perhaps crime scene investigation. I like finding out the truth and helping the people who have been wronged. I think we need more people like that. God knows we have enough criminals running around.”

“I think crime scene investigation would be too…sensitive for you,” Mr. Han said cooly. “After all, you deal with the worst kinds of people and see firsthand how nasty people are to each other.”

“How is that any different from political science?” Seungmin asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Did you know that up to five percent of inmates are wrongly convicted?” Hyunjin asked Mr. Han.

“Oh, this again.” Mrs. Hwang rolled her eyes.

“That’s up to one-hundred and twenty _thousand_ people incarcerated,” Hyunjin said.

“Wrong place at the wrong time, I suppose,” Mr. Han replied. “How unfortunate.”

“Yes,” Hyunjin said. “How unfortunate for them.”

“Did you see that new handbag collection?” Mrs. Han asked Mrs. Hwang.

“Oh, I did!” Mrs. Hwang said. “Aren’t they absolutely _stunning_?”

And, just like that, the conversation diverged. Hyunjin tuned out the rest of the lunch—which felt like an eternity—and found himself thinking about Jisung instead. He hoped Jisung was okay right now. He hoped he had drank the coffee.

Really, right now, all Hyunjin needed was to go home to Jisung—the sweet, pliant, lovable one, not the difficult, skittish, depressed one. He needed someone to soothe away all of his frustrations and anger, not light a fire under them and cause him more problems.

God, he really, _really_ hoped Jisung drank the coffee.

The moment lunch ended, Hyunjin tried to make a quick escape, but to no such luck. Seungmin was on him instantly, latching onto his arm and pulling him to the side, away from the sharp ears and prying eyes of the rest of their company.

“What was that?” Seungmin demanded. “You seriously still blame the Hans for what happened to you?”

“Oh, one-hundred percent,” Hyunjin said.

“Hyunjin, if it weren’t for them, we might not have ever _found_ you,” Seungmin said. “You’d still be in that basement with Ji—”

“Don’t,” Hyunjin growled. “Don’t say another word. You have no idea what you’re talking about, Seungmin. Just do yourself a favor and mind your own business.”

With that, he jerked his arm out of Seungmin’s grasp and walked away.

He really needed Jisung right now.

*

But despite how desperate Hyunjin was to rush back into Jisung’s arms, he couldn’t help fearing for the worst when he arrived back at the summer house that afternoon. He took a deep breath and pushed his hair out of his face before walking up the stairs, listening for any kind of movement. He knocked on the door and called out, “Jisung?” before entering.

He found the plate of food shattered on the floor, the mug of coffee next to it. Food and coffee were everywhere. Just the sight of it made Hyunjin sick to his stomach, while a bit of rage flared up as well. He quickly clamped down both, then headed for the bathroom.

It was locked, but Hyunjin had a key. He let himself in, bracing himself.

He wasn’t sure what he expected. Maybe for Jisung to attack him? Maybe for Jisung to be lying dead in his own vomit on the floor?

There was none of that. Just Jisung leaning against the wall by the toilet, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow and shaky. He looked awful—all pale and clammy and sick—but at least he was alive. And Hyunjin was here to make it all better.

“Hey,” Hyunjin said softly.

Jisung jolted awake, fear and panic crossing his face before his eyes fell on Hyunjin. Hyunjin held his breath, the hope bubbling up in him that Jisung would still look at him the same.

He watched as anger and hatred—pure, pure hatred—flashed in Jisung’s eyes.

It hurt, but at least Jisung didn’t jump up and attack him. He was too weak and nauseous for that.

Hyunjin approached him slowly, then sat down on the floor across from him, keeping at least a couple feet in between them. “You didn’t drink the coffee. Or eat anything.”

Jisung just glared at him.

“You need to eat to regain your strength,” Hyunjin said. “You’ve lost too much weight.”

“You’ll have to shove it down my throat if you want me to eat a thing you give me,” Jisung said. He tilted his head to one side, his eyes still full of nothing but hatred. “But I know you don’t have any difficulties shoving things down my throat.”

Hyunjin sighed. “If it comes to that, I will.”

They didn’t say anything for a few moments. Just…looked at each other. Jisung with open hostility, Hyunjin with nothing but concern.

“How do you feel?” Hyunjin asked eventually.

Jisung didn’t answer.

“Jisung,” Hyunjin said.

Jisung clenched his jaw and looked away, refusing to speak.

Hyunjin sighed again. So Jisung was going to be difficult. Perfect.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Hyunjin said.

Jisung scoffed at that.

For some reason, that made Hyunjin angry. “I”m not,” he insisted. “I’ve never willingly hurt you.”

“That is a _lie_ ,” Jisung snarled.

“I don’t hurt the people I love.”

“You hurt anyone, _especially_ the people you love, and then you dodge the question and make yourself look like the victim or blame the victims themselves.”

Hyunjin glared at him. “I can and will put you back on the potion.”

“Do it,” Jisung shot back. “See how long that lasts. You’ll run out eventually.”

Hyunjin smiled. “Actually, I tracked down the dealer. He’s now my business partner. I have unlimited access to as much potion as I want for the rest of my life.”

Jisung snorted. “Imagine that, drugging someone with love potion for the rest of their life just because you can’t take no for an answer.”

Rage flared up in Hyunjin. “I’m trying to help you,” he scoffed.

“I don’t want your help,” Jisung shot back. “I don’t want _you_.”

“Well, you might want to reconsider that, since I’m the only one you have left.”

Jisung tried not to let that get to him, but Hyunjin saw the flash of pain in Jisung’s eyes before Jisung looked away. He knew Hyunjin was right.

Hyunjin studied him for several moments, while Jisung refused to look at him. God, even all pale and clammy, Jisung was still beautiful. Hyunjin wanted to wrap him up in a tight hug and take care of him until he was better.

He decided he needed to be closer to him. Jisung finally looked at Hyunjin when Hyunjin slowly pushed himself up and started crawling towards him. He could see the way Jisung was trying to steel himself, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t afraid of Hyunjin, but his eyes betrayed him.

“All bark and no bite, I see,” Hyunjin murmured, watching as Jisung swallowed and struggled to get his breathing under control at their close proximity. “You hate me so much, Jisung? Prove it.”

Jisung spat in his face.

Hyunjin didn’t know what came over him in the moment that followed. He could only describe it as blinding rage that caused him to draw back and backhand Jisung across the face as hard as he could. Jisung let out a cry, holding his face as he fell to the side from the force of the blow. Once he was on the floor, he just laid there, already sobbing from the pain of both the hit and the withdrawal headache.

“Pathetic,” Hyunjin scoffed. “So pathetic. Spineless. Whiny. _Weak_. You want to know why everyone hurts you and leaves you, Jisung? Huh?”

Jisung didn’t respond, so Hyunjin grabbed him by the hair and yanked him up so he had no choice but to look Hyunjin in the eye.

“Because you’re too weak to fight back,” Hyunjin said. “You practically invite the pain. Or, maybe, the pain is all you know, so you can’t help but piss people off so they have no choice but to shut you up.”

Jisung was making this awful choking sound. He wasn’t actually choking, since it was more caused by him struggling to breathe while sobbing, but the sound annoyed Hyunjin to no end.

“Shut _up_ ,” Hyunjin growled, hitting Jisung again.

This time, he released Jisung, so Jisung once again fell to the floor. He immediately curled up into a fetal position as if to protect himself further.

He looked like a child. He acted like one.

Strangely enough, that was what broke through Hyunjin’s rage. It still simmered just beneath the surface, ready to boil over at any given moment.

He pushed his hair out of his face, and crouched down onto the floor next to Jisung, who was still crying but trying to smother the sounds.

“Now,” Hyunjin said, “I’m going to go get you food, and you better eat it when I get back. _All_ of it. Otherwise it will be a very uncomfortable experience for you.”

Jisung just swallowed thickly and didn’t respond.

Hyunjin’s phone buzzed in his back pocket. He pulled it out and scrolled through the messages.

Chan had finished Hyunjin’s order. He could get it to Hyunjin tomorrow, or Hyunjin could come pick it up.

Hyunjin typed back a response, telling him he’d pick it up tomorrow. Then he slipped the phone back into his pocket and looked back at Jisung. He reached out and placed his hand gently on the top of Jisung’s head. Jisung went rigid, but when Hyunjin started petting his hair, Jisung couldn’t help it and relaxed.

“It doesn’t have to be this hard,” Hyunjin said. “I don’t understand why you keep _fighting_ me.”

Jisung, of course, stayed silent.

“Maybe you can learn from this and stop doing it in the future,” Hyunjin added. “Really, the only thing keeping us from being happy is you, Jisung. We could be so, so happy together. But for some reason you always choose unhappiness and pain.” He sighed. “I guess I can understand it. After all, you don’t know true happiness. You only know pain. So it makes sense that you’d regularly turn to something that’s familiar to you.”

Jisung let out a shuddering breath and looked up at him, almost in disbelief. Hyunjin smiled sweetly at him before giving him one last pat and standing.

“Try to clean yourself up,” he said. “I’ll be back in a moment.” Then, softly, he added, “I love you.”

He left Jisung laying there, still sobbing in the corner of the bathroom.

*

Hyunjin snapped again that night, after dinner. Then the next morning, after breakfast.

After dinner, Jisung had refused to cooperate, even when Hyunjin brought him a tray full of food. Jisung had tried to knock the tray out of Hyunjin’s hands, saying he didn’t want to eat anything Hyunjin gave him. That triggered the blinding rage again, and all of a sudden Hyunjin was grabbing Jisung by the throat and practically throwing him across the bathroom. Jisung had cried out when he landed awkwardly on his shoulder. The sound was so pitiful and heartbreaking that it snapped Hyunjin out of the blinding rage again, but instead of trying to comfort Jisung like he wanted to, he turned and ran out of the room. He locked Jisung in the bathroom that night, though he wasn’t sure if it was to keep Jisung from getting out or Hyunjin from getting _in_. Regardless, he spent a good two hours sitting outside on the back patio, his head in his hands, wondering why the hell he snapped like that.

Then that morning, Hyunjin took several deep breaths and was determined to keep himself calm as he unlocked the door to the bathroom. He didn’t bring Jisung coffee, but he did bring Jisung a freshly-baked cinnamon roll. It was supposed to be an apology. A peace offering. And it went well, at first. Jisung didn’t try to attack him from where he was curled up in the bathtub, using a rolled up towel as a pillow. He even let Hyunjin sit next to the bathtub and hand him the cinnamon roll. But when Hyunjin absent-mindedly reached out to run his fingers through Jisung’s hair, Jisung flinched away. Instead of pulling his own hand back, the rage flared up again, and Hyunjin found himself tightening his grip in Jisung’s hair. He wanted to pull on it, use it to pull Jisung back to him, then maybe yank out chunks of it just to teach Jisung a lesson.

He didn’t do that, since he caught himself just in time, but it still took him several minutes afterwards to calm himself down.

When Chan answered the door later that morning, Hyunjin didn’t even bother greeting him before shoving past him and barging into Chan’s apartment.

“Um, good morning to you too?” Chan scoffed, shutting the door behind him. “Just let yourself in and make yourself comfortable, I guess.”

“Something’s _wrong_ ,” Hyunjin said, starting to pace in Chan’s living room like a caged animal. He couldn’t stop himself from clawing his hands through his hair. “He’s not reacting like he’s supposed to and there’s something _wrong_ with me.”

Chan frowned. “What?”

“It should be _working!_ ” Hyunjin said. “The potion should be changing him so his feelings for me stay the same even _after_ I stop using the potion! That’s what happened with me! I don’t know what I’m doing _wrong_!”

“Hold on, what?” Chan took a step forward. “What do you mean, that’s what happened to you?”

“Oh for God’s sake, Chan, you’re supposed to be _smart_ and yet you haven’t even figured it out yet?” Hyunjin stopped and spun around to look at him. “Why do you think I’m so obsessed with the potion _and_ Ji—the person I’m giving it to?”

“You—” Chan now took a step back, blinking rapidly. “You were under the potion?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Hyunjin snarled. “It changed my feelings permanently about the person who gave it to me. But when I give it to _him_ , he still hates me and tries to kill me the _moment_ I take him off of it. I’ve been giving it to him one drop at a time for _months—_ way longer than he ever gave it to me!—and still _nothing_.” He collapsed into one of Chan’s armchairs. It was old and creaky and saggy and there was a spring that dug into Hyunjin when he sat on it.

Chan didn’t say anything for several moments. He seemed to be thinking things through.

“Well,” he said after a moment. “Uh…the potion reacts differently in every person. It also seems to accentuate feelings that were already _there_. So if he hates you now…then he must have hated you before.”

Hyunjin shook his head. “That’s not it. I had no feelings whatsoever for him before he gave it to me. I hated his guts. But he, apparently, didn’t hate me when he started to give it to me. And now all of a sudden I love him and he hates me.” He scowled.

“Maybe it does the opposite, then,” Chan said, frowning. He now looked more thoughtful than disturbed. “Hold on—do you mind if I record this? I’ve never _actually_ heard the effects of the potion after I’ve dealt it to someone, so this would be a huge help to my— _our_ —future clients.”

“Sure, whatever.” Hyunjin waved him off.

Chan let out a little, “Sweet!” and dug his phone out of his pocket. He sat down on the couch across from Hyunjin. “Okay,” he said, bouncing with excitement as he looked at Hyunjin. “Repeat everything you just told me and make sure not to leave out any details, no matter how insignificant. Think of it as a huge contribution to science.”

Hyunjin snorted at Chan’s enthusiasm, then heaved a great sigh a moment later. “Well, for starters, your drug has serious side effects.”

“Such as?”

“Headaches, nausea, sweating, dizziness, weight loss—the usuals, I guess. That’s all from withdrawal, though.”

Chan nodded, an indicator that he understood and also that Hyunjin should keep going.

“And…rage,” Hyunjin admitted after a moment.

Chan frowned. “Rage?”

“I don’t know what it is,” Hyunjin said. “It just…it comes out of nowhere. I swear to you that I would never, ever want to hurt Ji— _him_ , but it’s like I can’t control it. All of a sudden I just get so _angry_ and something inside of me snaps and…and I hurt him.” He curled into himself. “I hit him. And I liked the feeling. It made me feel powerful.” He shook his head.

Chan blinked, surprised.

“There’s something _wrong_ with me,” Hyunjin insisted. “I love him, I really do. I don’t want anyone to hurt him. But then he does something that I don’t like and I just want to hurt him. I want to make him suffer. He’s already suffered so much, though…”

“And none of that happened before you were under the potion?”

Hyunjin shook his head. “No. I mean, I’d get angry like everyone else, but I didn’t want to _hurt_ people. Especially not people I care about. Even while I was under the potion, I’d…I’d just…hurt him and tell myself that he actually liked it that way. But he doesn’t. He told me. And yet I kept doing it anyways.”

Chan looked slightly disturbed now.

“I’m a monster,” Hyunjin whispered to himself.

“And your boyfriend isn’t reacting this way at all?”

“No. He says he hates me, but he doesn’t try to hurt me like I try to hurt him. He just tries to avoid me.”

“Must be processing it differently,” Chan said. “You mentioned that you’ve been giving it to him way longer than he gave it to you? That might have something to do with it.”

“I don’t know how much he gave me, but it only lasted for a few days,” Hyunjin said. “I don’t think he gave me a single drop a day like I’ve been giving to him. I think he dumped in half the bottle at one point, then quit cold turkey the next day.”

Chan’s eyes widened. “He gave you half the bottle in one serving? In a matter of _days_?”

Hyunjin nodded.

“Oh my god, why didn’t you _start_ with that?”

“I thought the fact that I’m turning into some sadistic abuser was more important!”

“Hyunjin,” Chan said, his face completely serious. “Love is a chemical reaction and a drug. Just like any other drug, when you get too much of it at one time, it can cause overdoses and extreme withdrawals afterwards, to the point where it literally changes your brain chemistry. It can take _years_ for people with serious addictions to recover.”

Hyunjin stared at him with wide eyes. “So…you think it fucked up my brain?”

Chan nodded so hard that Hyunjin thought he was going to dislodge something.

“But wouldn’t constant use over a long period of time do the same thing?”

“That’s where it gets tricky,” Chan said, running a hand through his hair. “When it’s just a single drop every day, I think it acts more like the normal reaction in our brains than a drug. Your brain can handle a little bit. It actually thrives off of it. We all need love—we’re literally designed for it. And if we don’t get it, it’s bad for us. We can get depressed because our brains stop making certain chemicals. But too much is also really bad, because it causes obsession and jealousy and awful thoughts. I think…I think you and your boyfriend are on opposite ends of the spectrum. You’re getting too much, and he’s not getting enough.”

“So I should give him more?”

“No,” Chan said quickly. “If anything, stop giving it to him. Just let him _be,_ Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin shook his head. “I can’t. He’ll die without me.”

“Are you sure about that? Or is that just you speaking?”

“I’d die without him, he’d die without me, it’s the same either way.” Hyunjin crossed his arms tightly but wished he could curl up into himself and disappear. Jisung was really good at doing that. Hyunjin’s limbs were too long and awkward to do it as effectively.

Chan didn’t speak for a few moments. He was thinking again. So was Hyunjin. He was thinking about the way Jisung flinched away from him, the way he sobbed on the bathroom floor yesterday, and how Hyunjin hadn’t felt an ounce of remorse until he snapped out of it.

“I don’t know what to do,” Hyunjin said quietly. “There’s…there’s something _wrong_ with me.”

Chan let out a breath. “I don’t think you should give him the potion anymore. Just see what he does. And maybe try to apologize to him without hurting him.”

Hyunjin opened his mouth to say that he _had_ tried that and that the rage had flared up anyways, when the front door opened.

“Channie, I’m home!” someone called out. Both Chan and Hyunjin looked up. Hyunjin recognized him from all of his research to blackmail Chan. There weren’t many people who looked like Felix.

Felix stopped when he saw Hyunjin there, his eyes going wide. “Oh,” he said. “I, uh, didn’t know you had company.”

Hyunjin glanced at Chan and stood. “I should get going anyways. Do you have what I ordered?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Felix stiffen, his face twist like he had tasted something bitter.

Chan looked at Hyunjin with side eyes for a moment before saying softly, “Yeah. I have it.”

He got up and walked to the kitchen, where he picked up a small, cardboard box and handed it to Hyunjin.

“Thanks,” Hyunjin said, pulling out the envelope of cash from his pocket and passing it to Chan. All in front of Felix, who just stared without speaking. His eyes narrowed at Hyunjin when Hyunjin stepped past him.

“I’ll be in touch,” Hyunjin told Chan before letting himself out of the apartment.

He couldn’t help looking down at the box as he headed out of the building and to his car, thinking it felt much heavier than anything he had ever touched before.

*

“You gave him the wrong one,” Felix said after Hyunjin had left. He was frowning. “Wasn’t that box the one with the fake potion? The one for that one client you’re trying to wean off?”

“Yep, that was the one,” Chan said. “Just sweetened water.” He looked at Felix and smiled. “It’s better that way. I told you, sometimes this potion is too dangerous.”

“Sometimes I wish you hadn’t made it,” Felix said.

“Yeah,” Chan murmured. “I wish that too.”

*

Jisung was in the bathroom, like usual. The door was still locked. Hyunjin wasn’t going to unlock it.

He set the cardboard box in the same drawer as the old, empty bottle of potion, shut it, and locked it. Then he went over to the door and knocked on it softly.

“Jisung?”

There was shifting on the other side of the door, but otherwise no answer.

Hyunjin sighed and let his forehead press against the wood of the door. “Can we talk?”

Still no answer.

Hyunjin closed his eyes. “Please?”

When there was still nothing but silence, Hyunjin sighed again and turned so his back was pressed up against the door instead. Then he slid down until he sat on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what happened. And I don’t know if it will happen again. It probably will. I don’t want it to happen again, but sometimes it just… _happens_.” He cringed at his word choice. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve never wanted to hurt you.”

He glanced to the side, where he could see a shadow moving along the crack under the door. So Jisung _was_ listening.

“I know you don’t believe me or trust me or want to forgive me,” Hyunjin continued. “I know you don’t even want to look at me. But, like it or not, you’re stuck with me. Unless you want to go back to that mental institution, I’m all you’ve got.” His voice grew softer as he added, “And you’re all I’ve got.”

Jisung scoffed and walked away.

Hyunjin could feel the rage bubbling up inside of him again. He quickly closed his eyes and focused on breathing. He wasn’t mad at Jisung. He wasn’t mad at Jisung.

It helped, somewhat, but when he opened his eyes again, he winced from a sudden pain in his palms. He looked down and saw that he had cut bloody crescents from clenching his fists. The thought of going to wash the cuts out and bandaging them crossed his mind, but he quickly shook his head. He had made Jisung suffer—he deserved to suffer too.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. He wondered if Jisung was still listening.

When there was once again nothing but silence, he stood up and left.

*

Hyunjin’s mother decided that Hyunjin needed to get out more to cure his mental woes. He would heal from his trauma once he went out and had _fun_ once again. Unfortunately, her idea of “fun” was dragging him along to brunches and afternoon teas (who had afternoon teas anymore? Apparently Mrs. Hwang and all of her friends). At one point she even made Seungmin take Hyunjin out for the day and talk about Harvard. She had hopes that Seungmin would inspire Hyunjin to be something more than just a sad aspiring art curator. Hyunjin only went along with it because he didn’t want his mother showing up unexpectedly at the summer house again.

Hyunjin used to be able to tolerate it. He used to be able to just get through these social gatherings during the day and then make it back home at night to Jisung and let Jisung make it all better. But now that wasn’t an option. He felt disgusted and exhausted and ten times moodier than usual. The rage was always simmering just an inch below the surface, ready to burst out of him at the worst times.

He tried to keep it in check. He tried to exhaust himself by working out more. Tried to distract himself by looking into more potential clients for him and Chan. Tried to talk to Seungmin about politics. Tried to collect as much evidence to use against the Hans as possible.

It worked, to an extent. But there was an unending supply of rage, and he worried he wouldn’t be able to keep it contained anymore.

He just…really, _really_ needed to talk to Jisung.

One night, he let Seungmin take him out. They met up with Changbin and Jeongin and went clubbing. Hyunjin used to love dancing. He still did. But he didn’t like dancing with other people. Didn’t like dancing with anyone who wasn’t Jisung.

So he drank instead. He drank and drank and drank, hoping it would take the edge off and numb the pain and the anger. It didn’t. It just made it worse.

He had Seungmin drop him off at the summer house. Seungmin was confused, but he didn’t ask. He just let Hyunjin be. He knew Drunk Hyunjin was too volatile to bother trying to take care of. So he just dropped Hyunjin off like Hyunjin asked and drove off, leaving Hyunjin to his own devices.

Hyunjin went right upstairs, where he crossed the room to the bathroom door and pounded on it.

“Jisung!” he yelled, though it came out slurred. “I’m going to open this door, and we’re gonna _talk_!”

Of course there wasn’t a fucking response. Hyunjin grabbed the key and unlocked it (after a solid two minutes of trying to fit it in the hole), then stumbled through the door. Jisung was there, looking like he was going to bolt at any moment from the little nest he had made out of towels in the bathtub.

Hyunjin took one look at him, at his big, beautiful eyes, and promptly dissolved into tears.

Judging from the way Jisung blinked at him, he was not expecting that.

In all honesty, Hyunjin wasn’t expecting it either.

“Why do you _hate me_?” Hyunjin asked, reaching out to Jisung. Jisung, as always, went stiff, but he let Hyunjin cup the side of his face. “Why, why, why? Is it because of the monster?”

“You’re drunk,” Jisung said. His voice was so detached. So soulless.

“I’m trying to get rid of it,” Hyunjin slurred. “Trying to…to kill it. Would that make you love me? I’ll kill the monster for you. Just for you. I’ll kill it riiiiight now.”

Jisung just frowned at him.

“You won’t have to be afraid of it anymore,” Hyunjin continued, now stumbling away from him. He went to the cabinet, where he knew he kept a box of razor blades for shaving.

“What are you doing?” Jisung asked.

“Don’t worry ’bout it,” Hyunjin said, smiling to himself as he rummaged through the cabinet. He ended up knocking everything out of it, including the box he was looking for. Once he saw it drop, he grabbed at it and missed. “You’ll love me after this. I know it.”

“Hyunjin—” Hyunjin didn’t remember seeing Jisung move, but suddenly he was right next to him, snatching the box away from him. Hyunjin made this inhuman growl in the back of his throat and lunged for it. Jisung jumped out of his way. The movement made the room tilt, and suddenly Hyunjin was falling.

It went black after that, but he remembered opening his eyes at one point and finding himself on the floor. Jisung was next to him, staring down at him, saying something. Hyunjin just stared up at him, once again lost in Jisung’s beauty.

It brought fresh tears to his eyes. Jisung would never be his, would he?

The realization didn’t trigger the rage this time. It just triggered the nausea.

The last thing Hyunjin remembered was throwing up, and someone smoothing back his hair.

*

Hyunjin opened his eyes and instantly regretted it. The light felt like it was driving an ice pick into his head. Terrible.

Worse, it made his stomach pitch, and suddenly he was rolling over and throwing up again. He realized then that he was hanging off the edge of a bed and that he had just thrown up on the rug beside his bed. Lovely.

Hyunjin ran a hand over his face, wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, and rolled over onto his back. Everything hurt. His head. His heart. Now his stomach, since he had just emptied all of its contents. But he found he didn’t even have the strength to get up.

Honestly, he’d been worse. He’d been worse at the Hans’ household. Like when they starved him for two days. Or when he had gone through withdrawal. Those withdrawal symptoms had been nasty. And the concussion from that fight with Jisung had just made them worse.

Jisung.

Hyunjin sat up quickly—too quickly. He almost fell over.

He looked around the room, frantically looking for any sign of struggle. Any blood, any torn curtains—

The master bedroom was immaculate as always—well, except for the fresh vomit on the rug—so that was some relief. But the bathroom—

Hyunjin crawled out of bed, careful not to step in the wrong place, and staggered towards the bathroom door. It was…open. Wide open. Revealed that the bathroom was also immaculate. There wasn’t even anything spilled out from the cabinet.

There was also no Jisung.

Hyunjin sagged against the doorway and blinked away the surge of tears. He reached up to rub at his eyes—then winced from the pain—and tried not to think about what this meant.

Maybe Jisung had seen his chance last night. Hyunjin had left the door unlocked. And he had passed out drunk. The maid and the cook had both gone home for the night. No one to stop Jisung if he decided to walk out.

How could anyone miss a chance like that?

Hyunjin wouldn’t have missed a chance like that. But it still stung.

At least like this, he was finally too exhausted for that monstrous rage to show its ugly face again.

He turned back to the bedroom, deciding he was just going to spend the rest of the day in bed.

He found himself face-to-face with Jisung, who stood in the doorway of the bedroom, holding a tray of food.

Hyunjin stopped; so did Jisung. They stared at each other.

Then Hyunjin blurted, “You stayed.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” Jisung said shortly.

“That’s not true,” Hyunjin said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You have the rest of the world. You could’ve gotten in a car and driven anywhere.”

“Didn’t feel like driving,” is all Jisung said.

“Mm,” is all Hyunjin said in response.

An awkward silence followed, during which they went back to staring at each other.

Then Jisung looked down at the tray of food in his hands and said, “I, um. Had the cook make you breakfast. Thought you’d need it.”

“No love potion?” Hyunjin asked dryly.

Jisung’s eyes hardened. “No.”

Hyunjin snorted at that. “Damn. It would have been just like old times.”

Jisung didn’t smile at all. Instead, he put the tray on top of the dresser, the only piece of furniture that was closest to the door. He wouldn’t come any closer, Hyunjin realized.

As Jisung turned to leave, Hyunjin said, “I’m sorry.”

Jisung paused.

“You could leave now if you want,” Hyunjin said. “I’ll understand.”

“I could,” Jisung said. “But, like I said, I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Then, with that, he left the room.

*

Jisung went downstairs, to the dining room right by the French doors that looked out at the beautiful gardens, and collapsed into the chair at the end of the table. It was Hyunjin’s chair, technically, but Jisung doubted Hyunjin would be down for breakfast. In the meantime, he was going to sit at the spot with the best view of the gardens and let the cook bring him his breakfast.

It was nice, to finally get out of that goddamn bathroom and to just sit by himself for awhile. He liked looking out at the gardens, and the edge of the forest beyond that. He could get used to a view like this, he thought.

He honestly wondered why he wasn’t leaving, though. He _could_ leave. Right now. Without worrying about Hyunjin hunting him down. He’d have to worry about the law hunting him down, because sooner or later _someone_ who hadn’t been bribed by Hyunjin would figure out that Jisung wasn’t in the mental institution like he should be, but he figured he had a while before that happened. He could take the time to leave. To create a new identity for himself. Disappear. Start over somewhere else.

So why wasn’t he doing that?

He didn’t know. Maybe he was too afraid. Maybe he was actually more attached to Hyunjin than he wanted to admit. Maybe he just didn’t know how to do anything by himself.

Hyunjin was right—he was all Jisung had.

Jisung shook his head and dropped his face into his hands.

One day, he’d figure it all out. But today…just wasn’t that day.

He could have probably sat like that for hours, but the sound of the front door slamming and the echo of footsteps on the wood floors snapped him out of it. He looked up, his panic spiking, as someone appeared in the doorway to the dining room. Someone who definitely was not Hyunjin.

Jisung recognized him. Kim Seungmin. He was Hyunjin’s best friend. If Hyunjin used to be the one who hated Jisung the most, then Kim Seungmin was a close second.

Seungmin slammed to a stop when he saw Jisung sitting there. Jisung tensed, getting ready to bolt. For a moment, they just stared at each other, both too shocked to do anything.

Then Seungmin’s face twisted with horror and disgust and a bit of anger as he pointed at Jisung and exclaimed, “ _YOU!_ ”

“Yes, _me_ ,” Jisung shot back, mostly out of impulse.

“You’re supposed to be in some fucking insane asylum!”

“Well, I escaped! And now I’m here to get revenge on _everyone_ who wronged me!”

Jisung really didn’t know why he said that. Sometimes it felt good just to scare people. Maybe Seungmin would get so freaked out that he would leave Jisung alone. That’s what used to happen in school. Seungmin liked to call him “psycho” even back then.

Except now, Seungmin could actually call the cops. Which was exactly what he was doing right now.

Once again, Jisung just reactedout of impulse. He jumped up out of the chair, knocking it over in the process, and threw himself at Seungmin. Seungmin hadn’t expected that and let out a scream as Jisung knocked both of them to the floor. Seungmin’s phone went skidding out of his hand and out of reach.

“Get off!” Seungmin yelled, kicking and punching at Jisung. He kicked Jisung in between the legs, then struck him across the face with his elbow. As soon as Jisung was off of him, he lunged for the phone again.

“What the _fuck_ is going on?!”

Hyunjin.

Both Seungmin and Jisung froze and looked up to find Hyunjin standing in the doorway, gaping at the two of them. A beat passed before Seungmin snapped out of it.

“Hyunjin!” he exclaimed, giving Jisung one last kick before jumping to his feet and running over to Hyunjin. He grabbed Hyunjin’s arms and tried to pull him away. “We need to get out of here. Somehow he got out and he’s here to kill you. We need to _go_.”

“What?” Hyunjin wrenched his arms out of Seungmin’s grasp and stepped back. “No! You don’t know what you’re talking about, Min.”

“I know you’re hungover, but we can talk about it in the car. Right now we need to _leave_.” Seungmin tried to take Hyunjin’s arm again, but once again Hyunjin stepped out of his reach.

“He’s not dangerous!” Hyunjin scoffed, darting in between Seungmin and Jisung, who was still wheezing from the pain of Seungmin’s blows on the floor. “He’s just misunderstood!”

“What?” Seungmin stared at him as Hyunjin turned to help Jisung.

For once, Jisung didn’t recoil at Hyunjin’s touch. Instead, he let Hyunjin help him sit up.

“Are you hurt?” Hyunjin asked, gripping Jisung’s shoulder.

Jisung shook his head.

“Hyunjin,” Seungmin said, horrified.

“Don’t call the cops,” Hyunjin said, looking up at Seungmin. “They’ll throw him back in that mental institution and do God knows _what_ to him.”

“Yeah, because he’s a fucking _psychopath_ ,” Seungmin scoffed. “He fucking kidnapped and raped you!”

“He didn’t!” Hyunjin shot back, glaring at Seungmin. “It’s a misunderstanding. _He_ didn’t do anything to me. It was his parents.”

Seungmin stared at him for a moment before letting out a bitter laugh. “His _parents_ kidnapped and raped you? What the _fuck_ , Hyunjin.”

“They just kidnapped me and then when I didn’t go along with their plans, they framed Jisung to cover up their tracks,” Hyunjin said. His grip on Jisung’s shoulder tightened, almost protectively. “He’s innocent.”

Seungmin just shook his head. “You’ve really lost it, Jinnie. But I don’t blame you. It’s the trauma. It’s Stockholm—”

“It’s _not_ Stockholm Syndrome!” Hyunjin yelled, making Jisung flinch. Hyunjin’s grip was getting tighter and tighter. He was digging his nails in. He was going to snap soon, and Jisung didn’t want to see what he would do to him _or_ Seungmin.

Seungmin, on the other hand, just clenched his jaw, looking unaffected by Hyunjin’s outburst.

“You’re sick,” he told Hyunjin. “You need help. You can’t just keep defending him—”

“I’m not sick!” Hyunjin exclaimed.

He dug in his nails in Jisung’s shoulder so hard that Jisung couldn’t help letting out a small cry.

“Hyunjin—” Jisung started to say.

“Shut up, Jisung,” Hyunjin scoffed.

“You need to calm d—”

“I said _shut up_!”

Seungmin’s eyes went to the phone on the floor at that moment before darting up to look at Hyunjin, who was momentarily distracted by Jisung. Then he lunged for the phone.

“No—” Jisung started to say, and Hyunjin looked at Seungmin right as Seungmin grabbed the phone.

The next thing Jisung knew, Hyunjin was launching himself at Seungmin, grabbing him by the throat, and slamming him to the floor. Seungmin gasped and tried to throw Hyunjin off of him like he had done to Jisung, but Hyunjin was much stronger than Jisung, and Seungmin, now. He ripped the phone out of Seungmin’s hand and threw it, where it hit the wall and broke. Then he brought both hands back to Seungmin’s neck and started squeezing as tight as he could.

Jisung just stared from where he was on the floor a few feet away. Just _stared_ as Seungmin struggled and smacked at Hyunjin’s arms to get him to let go of him. Just _stared_ as Seungmin’s eyes went wide with terror and his face started to turn red, then purple.

This was wrong. Jisung knew it. But at the same time, he couldn’t help thinking that Seungmin deserved it, after all the torment he’d put him through all those years ago. Besides, wouldn’t Seungmin turn them in if they let him live?

Jisung looked at Hyunjin and felt his insides go cold. Hyunjin’s face was twisted with this intense rage, like he had become that monster again. Suddenly Jisung was back in that room at the Hans’ mansion, struggling to defend himself as Hyunjin’s hands locked around his throat—

Jisung jumped up, grabbed a vase off of the mantle over the fireplace, and smashed it over Hyunjin’s head. Hyunjin’s eyes rolled into the back of his head before he slumped over, on top of Seungmin, who sucked in a breath. Jisung quickly grabbed the back of Hyunjin’s shirt and pulled him off of Seungmin.

Seungmin barely had time to take in a few precious breaths before Jisung was on top of him, holding a broken shard from the vase up to Seungmin’s bruised throat. Seungmin went rigid.

“I just saved your life,” Jisung said.

Seungmin didn’t say anything, probably because he was too terrified. Good.

“Now, you’re going to do exactly what I say, or else I’ll jam this shard into your throat,” Jisung said. “Understand?”

Seungmin tried to speak, but his voice was too hoarse.

“Blink twice if you understand,” Jisung said.

Seungmin blinked twice.

“Good,” Jisung said. “You’re going to get up and come with me.”

Seungmin was surprisingly compliant as Jisung made him get up and leave the dining room. They walked upstairs to the master bedroom, where Jisung dragged the chair from the beauty vanity into the bathroom. He made Seungmin sit in it, then quickly darted away for a moment to grab the pair of handcuffs from a drawer in one of the nightstands. He half-expected Seungmin to attack him the moment his back was turned, but instead, Seungmin stayed right where Jisung had left him. He was probably too shocked to try anything.

Jisung handcuffed Seungmin’s hands behind his back. Then he went and grabbed as many of Hyunjin’s belts as he could and used them to further tie Seungmin to the chair. Once he was sure Seungmin was secure, he took a step back and allowed himself to finally breathe.

For a moment, he and Seungmin just stared at each other.

Then Seungmin managed to say, “You’re a fucking psycho.”

“And you’re tied up,” Jisung shot back. “Who knows you’re here?”

Seungmin shook his head. “No one.”

“Good.” Jisung turned and walked out of the bathroom. He made sure to shut and lock the door behind him.

The moment he was alone, he let out another huge breath. He dropped the shard to the floor and let it shatter as he reached up and clawed his hands through his hair. He closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself, but he just saw the monster that wore Hyunjin’s face, trying to kill him, then trying to kill Seungmin. That same monster was now passed out on the dining room floor. It would wake up and probably try to kill either Jisung or Seungmin again. Jisung couldn’t have that.

So he went downstairs and found a way to deal with Hyunjin as well.

*

Hyunjin woke up once again with a splitting headache, except this one felt a million times worse than the last one. He let out a choked cry as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, while the pain was so intense that it made him sick to his stomach. It took several shaky breaths before he was finally able to open his eyes.

Jisung sat across from him, staring at him with a cold, blank expression.

Hyunjin blinked in surprise. He didn’t like that look on Jisung’s face. He truly looked like a psychopath.

“Jisungie,” he began, but Jisung held up a hand without blinking.

“You lost control again,” Jisung said.

Hyunjin swallowed; his tongue felt like sandpaper. When was the last time he had something to drink?

“I did,” he managed to say, his gaze falling to the floor.

“You hurt me _and_ you almost killed Seungmin.”

Hyunjin winced. He could still feel Seungmin’s delicate throat under his hands. Could still feel Seungmin’s rapid, pounding heartbeat. Could still see Seungmin’s wide, panicked eyes, begging Hyunjin to stop.

Hyunjin hadn’t wanted to stop. He had felt powerful in that moment, like he could crush Seungmin’s neck and relish the feeling.

Worse, he still didn’t feel a rush of guilt and regret like he had when he had hurt Jisung. He almost…didn’t care at all. Didn’t care that he almost killed his best friend.

He really was a monster, wasn’t he?

“Where’s Seungmin?” Hyunjin asked.

“Oh, he’s around,” Jisung said. “In a similar situation.”

Hyunjin frowned at that and tried to twist around to look around the room. He realized then that he was sitting on a chair, and that his hands were tied behind his back. He frowned down at his restraints and tested them. They were so tight that he almost couldn’t breathe properly. He looked up at Jisung.

“Jisungie,” he said again. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out what to do with you and Seungmin,” Jisung said, frowning thoughtfully to himself. He looked as if he was thinking about what to have for lunch rather than what to do with two lives that were in his hands.

Panic surged up in Hyunjin. “I’m sorry,” he said. “He was going to hurt us—hurt _you_ —and I just reacted. I had to do something. I had to _protect you_.”

“The more you apologize, the more I realize you don’t actually mean it,” Jisung said.

“I do mean it!”

“If you really do, then you’d make an effort not to make the same mistake in the future, so you wouldn’t have to apologize over and over again.”

Hyunjin’s eyes turned pleading. “I’m trying, love, I really am—”

“Maybe you are,” Jisung said. “But despite your best efforts, you still lash out. You still turn into a monster. No one is safe around you.” His frown deepened. “ _You’re_ not even safe.”

“What are you going to do?” Hyunjin asked, his chest tight.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Jisung said. He started to stand from his chair.

“Jisungie,” Hyunjin said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Jisung looked down at him for a few moments before taking a few steps closer. He reached out and cupped the side of Hyunjin’s face, just like Hyunjin had done to him so many times before.

His hands were so cold. But it was Jisung. It was Hyunjin’s Jisung. Hyunjin leaned into the touch, wanting to savor every moment of it.

But Jisung pulled away too quickly. The rage flared up in Hyunjin, causing this inhuman growl. He wanted Jisung to touch him again. How dare he pull away so quickly.

Jisung took a step back.

“You’re a monster,” he whispered.

“No—” Hyunjin started to say, but Jisung was already turning and walking away. “Jisung!”

Hyunjin shouted after him, begged him to come back, but it was no use. Jisung left him tied up to a chair in the middle of that room.

*

Jisung had no idea what to do. A few days ago, he was completely powerless while under that fucked-up love potion. Now, he had two people tied up in two different rooms and was completely in control of their lives. He didn’t really know what to do with all this newfound power.

Actually, he had _some_ idea of what to do. He was going to leave. He was going to grab anything of value in this house, sell it, and use the money to get out of the country. He didn’t know where he would go. He just knew he had to get away.

But the problem was that he didn’t have his passport _or_ any identification. He couldn’t go anywhere without that. And he didn’t have enough connections to find someone who would create a new identity for him.

Worse, people would notice Seungmin missing. They’d eventually come to this house. They’d find Seungmin and Hyunjin tied up and realize that Jisung wasn’t where he was supposed to be. They’d blame Jisung once again for kidnapping (and raping, since apparently those two charges went together nowadays). He wasn’t even sure if he’d be thrown back into the insane asylum. They’d probably skip that all together and say he was a menace to society and just give him the death penalty.

Jisung didn’t know what to do.

He made himself sick just thinking about it, to the point where he had to sit down and drop his face into his hands because the room started spinning. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. No, he was not going to be some whiny, pathetic crybaby. Crying would get him nowhere. He had to be strong. Had to think things through.

Maybe he should just kill Hyunjin and find a way to frame Seungmin. But Seungmin would talk, and since Seungmin was a valued member of this society, people would listen to him.

Or maybe Jisung could make it look like an accident. Hyunjin had been drunk last night—maybe he had taken some pain meds to dull the pain in his head, then took too many and accidentally killed himself that way. That would be easy, but that didn’t take care of Seungmin.

Well…Jisung could kill Seungmin _and_ Hyunjin…but he didn’t even know how to get away with _one_ murder—how the hell could he get away with two?

He needed some way to get Seungmin under control. He needed leverage—blackmail. Hyunjin might have some dirt on Seungmin. But Jisung didn’t want to talk to Hyunjin. Hyunjin was a monster.

Jisung thought through scenario after scenario, but nothing worked. He slowly felt sicker and sicker as he realized that he couldn’t get out of this one. He was never good at getting out of things.

He wasn’t good at anything.

After all, he was a failure. Just like his parents had told him. He was useless and weak, just like Hyunjin had said. He should just give up. Should just let Seungmin and Hyunjin go and let Seungmin tell the authorities everything.

At least in the mental institution, he’d be away from Hyunjin. They wouldn’t let Hyunjin visit ever again once they figured out that Hyunjin had bribed his way in and helped Jisung escape.

Jisung shook his head at himself. He didn’t know why he tried anymore. It always had the same ending.

He found himself walking upstairs, to the room where he kept Hyunjin. He heard Hyunjin say his name when he opened the door and walked in. He didn’t look at Hyunjin at all as he crouched down next to him and worked on untying him.

Maybe Hyunjin would snap and kill him right now. Jisung would probably fight. It was instinct. But he wouldn’t win. Maybe that was a good thing.

Hyunjin didn’t attack him once he was untied.

Instead, he took Jisung in his arms and held him. “Did you eat?” he asked.

Jisung didn’t even know what time it was anymore, but his stomach growled as an answer.

Hyunjin nodded. “Let’s get some food. Then we’ll figure out what to do.”

Jisung nodded back. Hyunjin always knew what to do. Jisung wasn’t sure who he’d be without Hyunjin.

*

Hyunjin knew _exactly_ what they were going to do with Seungmin. And it didn’t involve killing him.

“You’re not going to like it,” he told Jisung, who had that broken look in his eye again. Hyunjin hated that look. He’d seen it enough times before. He had hoped that by using the love potion and by treating Jisung well that he’d never see it again. How wrong he was.

“I don’t care,” Jisung said, not looking up from where he was pushing food around the plate. He had said he was hungry, and yet he wasn’t eating.

“Jisung,” Hyunjin said, reaching out to him. He placed his hand on top of Jisung’s. Jisung looked up at him. “You need to eat.”

“I don’t have an appetite,” Jisung said.

Hyunjin sighed, then got up. He moved his chair so it was next to Jisung and facing him. Then he pulled the plate towards him and scooped up some of the food with his fork. He held it up to Jisung’s lips.

“Open for me,” Hyunjin said.

Surprisingly Jisung obeyed. He let Hyunjin feed him his whole meal.

When the plates were empty and set off to the side, they just sat there. Hyunjin gazed at Jisung. Jisung stared down at the table.

“I was going to kill you,” Jisung murmured at one point. “I was going to kill you and Seungmin and then run away. But I couldn’t figure out how to get away with it.”

Hyunjin stayed silent, hoping Jisung would continue.

Jisung did, after a moment. “I don’t see any other ending besides me going back to the mental institution. It’s going to happen, one way or another. Every single one of my plans either ended with that or death, because I knew I’d fail at each one. I fail at everything.”

Hyunjin knew where this was coming from, now. Jisung had switched to this mindset awhile ago, right after Hyunjin had come dangerously close to killing him. Shortly after that, Jisung’s parents found a way to frame Jisung. Hyunjin figured that Jisung’s parents had said something to him about being a failure, when Jisung had been at his lowest, and Jisung had taken the words to heart.

“I wanted to leave,” Jisung added. “I wanted to get away from you. But you’re right. You’re all I have.”

Hyunjin took Jisung’s hands and held them. He started rubbing comforting circles into the skin. “You’re all I have, too. And I really _am_ trying to be better.”

Jisung didn’t respond to that. He probably didn’t believe Hyunjin. Hyunjin would just have to prove it to him.

“What do you say we do something?” Hyunjin asked. He gave a soft smile. “Just do something fun together, to get our minds off of everything.”

Jisung’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not in the mood,” he said quietly, avoiding Hyunjin’s gaze.

“No, not that. Something _else_. We could go for a walk. Or a drive. I know an overlook near here. It’s a place for hookups, but this early in the morning, no one is going to be there.”

“It’s morning?” Jisung frowned and looked out the windows.

“It’s just before sunrise,” Hyunjin said.

Jisung’s eyes took on a glazed look. Did he not know that he had left Hyunjin tied up all day and all night? Judging from his expression, Hyunjin guessed not.

“Go change,” he said, kissing the back of Jisung’s hands before dropping them. He stood. “I need to go move Seungmin’s car into the garage. People are going to start noticing that he’s been gone for too long. Can’t have them driving by here and seeing it parked out front.”

Jisung nodded and stood. He walked away from Hyunjin like he was on autopilot.

Hyunjin couldn’t help frowning. Jisung’s current mindset was so fragile…it could completely shatter if Hyunjin wasn’t careful.

He plucked Seungmin’s car keys off the floor and went out front, where he pulled the car into the garage. Then he pulled out a tarp and draped it over Seungmin’s.

When he walked back into the house, he went upstairs, to the master bedroom. Jisung wasn’t there—he was in the bedroom just next door, the one that he had kept Hyunjin in all of yesterday. Usually Hyunjin would pause and make sure he was okay, but he knew Jisung wasn’t going to try anything. So he went into the bathroom of the master bedroom, where Seungmin was dozing in the chair he was tied to.

Seungmin’s eyes snapped open when he heard movement. He took one look at Hyunjin and glared.

“Hi, Minnie,” Hyunjin said with a smile.

“You’ve completely lost it,” Seungmin said.

Hyunjin shrugged and bent down so he was eye-level with Seungmin. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m finally just showing you my true self, hmm? It’s so liberating. I’ve spent my entire life pretending to be someone else without even realizing it. Then Jisung came along and showed me how to be _me_. Honestly, I’ve never felt better.”

Seungmin just shook his head at him. “What are you going to do? Kill me?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Hyunjin smiled again before straightening up. “I think I’ll let Jisung decide. He’s so creative about things like this. But don’t worry, we won’t keep you hanging for long.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the room, making sure to shut and lock the bathroom doors behind him.

When he walked into the other room, Jisung had already changed and was waiting for him. Hyunjin smiled at him as he walked up, kissed him on the forehead, and went to go change himself.

Really, he should be worried about having Seungmin as a liability, but he had never felt better. He knew how to get Seungmin under his control. And Seungmin had helped bring Jisung back to Hyunjin. This was the first step towards Jisung loving Hyunjin back without the love potion. Hyunjin tried not to feel so excited by it.

But things were turning around, in his favor. How could he _not_ be overly excited?

*

They drove up to the overlook, just like Hyunjin had promised. Hyunjin tried not to glance at Jisung too much as he drove, but he was distracted by how Jisung had the window down and his eyes closed as he leaned into the wind. His hair went everywhere and would soon be a tangled mess, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he just seemed to be focused on the warmth of the sun on his skin and the feeling of the wind in his hair.

Hyunjin wanted to reach over and touch him, but he kept his hands to himself.

When they pulled up onto the overlook, there was no one else around. Hyunjin smiled as he parked but kept the windows rolled down. Then he looked at Jisung, who slowly opened his eyes and blinked at the sight before him.

Their neighborhood spread out below them, tucked in a gentle, lush valley between a series of soft hills. The trees spread out in all directions as far as they could see. It was so green, though the sunrise cast a pinkish glow through the valley, while the clouds above were a brilliant shade of gold. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Hyunjin asked, though his eyes were on Jisung.

“It is,” Jisung said. He genuinely seemed to be in awe. “I can see my house from here.”

Hyunjin’s smile faded at that as he followed Jisung’s gaze. There, at the edge of the valley, was a dark, brown mansion. Just the sight of it soured Hyunjin’s mood. The Hans were in there right now, without a care in the world. Hyunjin wanted to set their house on fire and see if they cared then.

“Then there’s the mental institution,” Jisung added, pointing to a massive white building on the opposite edge of the valley, next to the hospital, which was by the main road leading in and out of the neighborhood. “I guess I’ll be there again soon.”

“Stop talking about that,” Hyunjin snapped.

Jisung looked at him in surprise, a flash of fear crossing his face.

Hyunjin quickly took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few moments. This was not the time to get angry. The monster needed to stay asleep, shoved deep, deep down inside of him.

Once he was more collected, he opened his eyes and said softly, “Let’s not think about any of that now. Let’s not think about anything painful or stressful. Just…think about the good things.”

“The good things,” Jisung repeated.

“Yes,” Hyunjin said. “Like…look over there. There’s the movie theater. We used to sneak in to other movies right after our own ended, just so we didn’t have to pay for it.” He smiled. “Changbin used to eat _so_ much popcorn and then he’d complain about it because it ruined his diet and made him so bloated the next day. But he’s bulked up since then and doesn’t really care about things like that anymore. Good for him.”

Jisung didn’t say anything.

“And over there—that’s our favorite boutique,” Hyunjin added, pointing to another shop, one with a massive fountain in front of it. “I’ve gotten all of my best clothes from there. They give me a discount every time I go, just because they love me. I remember I got my favorite hat from there and planned to wear it to my trip to Europe.”

His smile faded when he realized what he was saying. He looked at Jisung, who was staring down at his hands. When the silence fell, Jisung glanced up at him.

“I’m just trying to break the ice,” Hyunjin said.

“Is that it,” Jisung said.

“Yes. You can speak, too.”

“I can? Oh, well then!” Jisung sat up a little as he looked out at their neighborhood. “There’s the movie theater, where I went to movies by myself and sat in the back row. I remember one time I was there for the premiere of a movie I had been anticipating for awhile, and that Hwang Hyunjin and his friends came in, saw me, and dumped a bucket of buttery popcorn on me. I think Changbin even dropped a hotdog with all of its condiments on it on me too, so I got up and left. Never went back. Never ended up seeing that movie, either.”

He pointed to the boutique. “There’s that shitty boutique that kicked me out just because Hwang Hyunjin was in there and didn’t want to be bothered by my presence. Another time before that, I went to go buy my mom something for her birthday, only to find that the whole jewelry section had been bought by—you guessed it—Hwang Hyunjin, who knew _his_ mother would be delighted by all the new jewelry, despite it not being her birthday for another six months.”

Hyunjin swallowed, but Jisung wasn’t done. He was so far from done. He pointed at the bowling alley, the arcade, the park, the _school_. Each time, he told a different story of his experiences there, usually soured by Hyunjin himself.

The worst, though, was when he pointed at his house again, and spat, “And there’s my house! I remember that place being my happy place, my safe space, where I could get away from Hwang Hyunjin, where I could rant to my parents and they would support me. But then one day Hwang fucking Hyunjin showed up and ruined everything! He used me and abused me and somehow came out as the victim, while I was still the perpetrator. He ruined my _life_ in that house—he destroyed the only safe place I had and turned my parents and the entire world against me. And now I can’t look at it the same. I can’t look at _anything_ in this damn town the same!”

Hyunjin winced, but Jisung _still_ wasn’t finished. His face was too flushed with anger and his eyes were too bright as he gestured wildly and spat out, “Hwang Hyunjin, Hwang Hyunjin, Hwang _fucking_ Hyunjin! Everywhere you look, Hwang Hyunjin! This whole _town_ belongs to him. And just like him, it’s rotten to the core, full of nothing but bad memories for _anyone_ who had the guts to stand up to him. God forbid anybody try to cross Hwang Hyunjin.”

He turned to look at Hyunjin, his jaw clenched, breathing heavily from his rant. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, but he refused to let them fall.

Hyunjin just stared at him. He didn’t know what to say. Some of these stories he remembered. But others were completely new to him. And yet it seemed like Jisung had plenty more where that came from.

Jisung shook his head when he realized that Hyunjin wasn’t going to say anything. He slumped back into his seat, staring straight ahead. “Never mind,” he said, his voice low but still full of emotion. “Just—fuck it all.” He covered his face with a hand and didn’t move.

This was _not_ how Hyunjin wanted their day to go. He had hoped that they would be able to find a quiet area, to finally catch a breath, to maybe even connect…instead, Jisung was just proving again and again how much he hated Hyunjin and how he would never love him back.

Usually Hyunjin would be angry. Usually the monster would come roaring out, probably grabbing Jisung by the hair and slamming his head into the dash.

But Hyunjin kept the monster at bay, probably because every single word Jisung said was true. This was Hyunjin’s town. And he had done all those things to Jisung, because he had wanted to embarrass him. Because he wanted to feel powerful. Superior.

He had always been a monster to Jisung. The potion had just made it stronger.

When Hyunjin stayed silent for too long, Jisung said, “Say something. I know you want to.”

“This town isn’t good to you,” Hyunjin said. “It never was, and it never will be. You’ll never be happy here.”

Jisung looked up from his hand, as if he hadn’t expected Hyunjin to say that.

“You should leave.” Hyunjin looked down at the steering wheel.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” Jisung said. His voice was hoarse now.

“You don’t need to have somewhere,” Hyunjin said. “You just _go_. You’ll find somewhere. You’ll find somewhere to belong. And it’ll be much better than here.”

 _And I won’t be with you_ , he almost said, but he knew Jisung wanted it that way.

Jisung didn’t say anything to that. He didn’t say anything at all for several minutes. By then, the sun had risen completely, and Hyunjin turned on the car.

They drove back to the summer house in silence. Hyunjin didn’t let himself glance over at Jisung a single time. That was fine, though. Jisung wasn’t looking anyways.

When they pulled into the garage, Jisung finally spoke.

“What are you going to do with Seungmin?”

Hyunjin turned off the car and looked at him. “You’ll see,” he said.

*

Seungmin didn’t move when Hyunjin walked into the bathroom. He stayed where he was, his head tilted back, his eyes closed. But Hyunjin knew that he was alive because he could see him breathing. He still kicked Seungmin’s chair, though, just to get Seungmin to move.

Seungmin opened one eye, and Hyunjin smiled at him.

“Time to talk,” Hyunjin said.

“Is this where I negotiate my death?” Seungmin asked dryly.

“If you negotiate correctly, there won’t be any death.”

“Who’s going to kill me? You?” Seungmin’s eyes slid over Hyunjin’s shoulder, where Jisung stood in the doorway. “Or your little psycho fuck toy?”

Hyunjin backhanded him across the face. “Don’t call him that,” he growled.

Seungmin lifted his head at that point, carefully licking away the blood that seeped from the corner of his mouth. “Careful, Hyunjin. Each move against me is just another year added to your sentence.” He tilted his head to one side. “How much is the sentence, I wonder, for bribing an entire staff in a government institution and helping a convict escape?”

“He’s innocent,” Hyunjin snarled. “Me, not so much.” He smiled at that. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Minnie. We’re going to let you go. But you’re going to keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut, understand? No harm done, we all go on with our lives.”

Seungmin snorted. “Clearly you’re delusional, because that’s not happening.”

“I figured that would be your answer.” Hyunjin sighed. “Are you _sure_ you don’t want to rethink? Just a little?”

“Hmm, let me think— _no_.”

Hyunjin shrugged. “Fair enough. Have it your way.”

Before Seungmin could respond, Hyunjin grabbed Seungmin’s jaw, forced it open, and pressed the bottle of love potion to his lips. He dumped probably half of the bottle in there, then covered Seungmin’s mouth with his hand until Seungmin swallowed it.

In the doorway, Jisung winced and turned away. Hyunjin glanced up just to see Jisung leaving the room. He would deal with him later.

Seungmin was struggling and making strangled noises, but it was either swallow it or choke on it. He was forced to swallow it.

Once Hyunjin was sure Seungmin swallowed it, he released him and stepped back, brushing his hair out of his face. Then he gave Seungmin one last sweet smile and walked out of the room.

Jisung was leaning against the wall in the hallway, hugging his torso tightly as he stared at the floor. Hyunjin stepped up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I told you,” Hyunjin murmured. “You weren’t going to like it.”

“I know,” Jisung said quietly. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep, shaky breath. He was as pale as a ghost. Hyunjin wanted to comfort him, but the moment he moved to pull Jisung into his arms, Jisung said, “Don’t.”

Hyunjin stopped, though the monster was still dangerously close to the surface. It didn’t take being told _no_ very lightly.

“Fucking pathetic,” he scoffed, already shoving Jisung away. Jisung stumbled but didn’t look up at him as Hyunjin stormed off.

Hyunjin waited for a couple hours, just long enough for them to eat lunch. Jisungate with him, but he didn’t look up at Hyunjin at all, and they didn’t speak. Once lunch was over, Hyunjin went back up to the room. He couldn’t help smirking when he entered, knowing that Seungmin would be so much easier to deal with now. Seungmin would be looking at him with stars in his eyes, like he had never seen Hyunjin before. Honestly, Hyunjin still loved Jisung with all his heart, but he wanted someone to look at him with that much devotion. Maybe it would make Jisung jealous.

When he stepped into the room again, though, Seungmin glared at him.

Hyunjin was confused but didn’t let it faze him. He kept his smug smirk on his face as he crouched down so he was eye-level with Seungmin again.

“So,” Hyunjin said. “Want to try again, Minnie?”

“So you can shove something else down my throat?” Seungmin scoffed. “What the hell was that? Some sort of truth serum or something?”

“Oh, just a super secret potion of mine,” Hyunjin said, tilting his head to one side. “And why would I need truth serum? I don’t need you to tell me the truth—I just need you to do what I say.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Seungmin said.

Hyunjin hit him so hard that the chair fell backwards, and Seungmin cried out when all of his weight landed on his cuffed arms. It probably didn’t feel the best on his shoulders, either.

Hyunjin didn’t care. He stood over him with a blank look for a few moments, just to watch Seungmin gasp in pain for a few moments. Then he leaned forward, grabbed the back of the chair, and wrenched it back up. Seungmin’s eyes went wide.

“I’ll just let you think about it a bit more,” Hyunjin said.

Seungmin didn’t respond, and Hyunjin left the room.

He found Jisung standing outside the door, probably eavesdropping. Jisung flinched when he saw Hyunjin, and the movement just triggered the rage again. Before Hyunjin realized what he was doing, he was grabbing Jisung by the throat and slamming him against the wall. Jisung let out a small shriek at the sudden violence, but of course Hyunjin was too furious to hear it. He pulled the bottle of the love potion from his pocket, uncorked it, and poured it into Jisung’s mouth. Jisung struggled against him, trying to spit the potion back out at him, but Hyunjin wouldn’t let him. He covered Jisung’s mouth like he had done all those other times when ministering the potion like this, then put all of his weight on his arm, which he put across Jisung’s throat. Eventually Jisung swallowed it, like they all did, and Hyunjin waited. He waited for that look of love and devotion to come back to Jisung’s eyes.

It never did.

Hyunjin grabbed the bottle out of his pocket again and took a sip himself. It tasted sweet, just like the potion should. But he didn’t feel the warmth on his tongue, or the swelling of his heart in his chest, or the tingling sensation everywhere else. He just had a bad aftertaste of something that was too sweet to begin with.

Once he realized what it was, his rage spiked again, and he smashed the potion on the wall, dangerously close to Jisung’s head. Jisung let out a cry as he flinched away from it.

A small part of Hyunjin wished Jisung hadn’t done that. Now the monster was addicted to the sound of Jisung whimpering and crying and wanted more of it. He wanted to make Jisung _hurt_ , wanted to break him beyond repair, wanted to relish in the satisfaction and exhilaration that came out of it. He wanted to feel powerful, as always.

“Hyunjin—” Jisung started to say, but Hyunjin cut him off.

His hand wrapped around Jisung’s throat again as he squeezed as hard as he could, enjoying the way Jisung’s throat crunched underneath it. He brought up his other hand to crush it further, but then Jisung slammed his head into Hyunjin’s and then brought his knee up in between Hyunjin’s legs. There was a sickening, wet crunch, and heat poured down Hyunjin’s face. He didn’t even notice—he was too blinded by rage and pain as Jisung wriggled out of his grasp.

Jisung was moving now, running away from him, down the hall. Hyunjin was faster. He was always faster. He lunged at Jisung and tackled him to the floor. Both of them went down hard, but Jisung was already twisting around in his grasp and fighting back like his life depended on it. He managed to kick Hyunjin away from him and staggered to his feet.

There was blood on the floor. Hyunjin barely comprehended it as he got up and lunged one last time, his hand stretching out towards Jisung’s delicate throat—

Jisung jerked backwards, slipped on the blood, and fell. Except this time, he found himself in a free fall, with nothing but air to grab onto.

Hyunjin snapped out of his rage right when he realized what was happening. He made some sort of strangled sound in his throat and threw out a hand to grab onto Jisung’s. But he was too late.

The next thing he knew, Jisung was lying at the base of the stairs. And he wasn’t moving. His head smacking into the edge of the bannister had made sure of that.

Hyunjin screamed, and it sounded like it had been ripped from his throat. He dashed down the stairs, careful not to trip and fall like Jisung had, though he knew that it was what he deserved, not Jisung. He collapsed onto his knees at the bottom and pulled Jisung’s limp body into his lap. There was blood from where his head had been, right next to the bannister.

“No,” Hyunjin whispered. “No, no, Jisung, _no_.”

He held Jisung closer to his chest, the tears already pouring down his face. They fell onto Jisung’s face, along with drops of blood from his nose. Hyunjin quickly wiped both away, but the blood smeared and made it look worse.

“No, no,” Hyunjin’s voice broke. “Stay with me. Please. _Please_ , Jisung, I can’t lose you…”

Jisung didn’t even stir. Hyunjin let out a sob as he dropped his head onto Jisung’s chest, praying that he’d hear a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He cried then, harder than he had in months. He was vaguely aware that he was still talking, that he was trying to tell Jisung something, but most of it was incomprehensible. Hyunjin settled with clutching Jisung to his chest as tightly as possible, while tucking his face into the crook of Jisung’s neck and cradling the back of Jisung’s head with a hand.

“Please,” Hyunjin whimpered. “Please, please—”

He cut off as he gulped in air, and at that moment, he heard it. It was faint—it was so, so faint, but it was there. A heartbeat.

Jisung was going to be okay.

Hyunjin let out a cry as he pulled back. Quickly wiping the tears and blood from his own face, he looked down at Jisung. Jisung’s eyes were closed. His lips were slightly parted. He was so limp from where he laid in Hyunjin’s arms. The bruises on his neck were already darkening, and Hyunjin felt sick to his stomach.

He did this. This was his fault.

He had been trying so hard to keep the monster suppressed, to prove to Jisung that he really was getting better, that he was worthy of Jisung’s love.

But he had slipped. All because of Seungmin and the fucking potion—

 _The potion_.

The rage returned, but it wasn’t as explosive. It was quieter, more calculating, more easier to control. Because now, Hyunjin realized _why_ it had surfaced in the first place.

The potion was fake. Chan gave him a fake potion. Chan gave him a fake potion and still charged him full price. But because of that fake potion, Hyunjin wasn’t able to control Seungmin, and as a result hadn’t been able to control his own rage. And Jisung had suffered for it.

Jisung was always the one who suffered for it.

Never again. Hyunjin was determined to fix this. His rage had a definite target, now.

He bent down, scooped Jisung up, and carried him over to the couch. He gently laid him down before going to get a washcloth. When he came back, he pressed it up to the back of Jisung’s head, hoping it would staunch the bleeding long enough for him to get back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, reaching out and smoothing back the hair from Jisung’s forehead. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to fix this for you, love.”

He leaned forward and placed one last kiss on Jisung’s lips. A part of him wanted to linger, to hold Jisung close and kiss him until his last breath, but he knew he had to keep moving, otherwise the rage would get impatient again. He needed justice.

As he withdrew, Jisung stirred, making a soft noise of pain. His eyelids fluttered. He opened his eyes to look at Hyunjin for a heartbeat or two before he fell unconscious again.

Hyunjin knew in that moment that he’d do _anything_ to make this right.

“I love you,” he whispered.

With that, he turned and walked away, praying to anything that was out there that Jisung would be alright.

*

Hyunjin didn’t remember driving at all. All of a sudden, he was just _there_ —at Chan’s apartment, gripping the gun he had pulled from the glove compartment of his car. He pounded his fist on the door, yelling, “ _Chan_!”

Chan opened it, but just a crack. He took one look at Hyunjin—at the dried blood on his face, at the rage in his eyes, at the _gun in his hand_ —and slammed the door.

Hyunjin was prepared for this. He lunged forward, catching the door. Chan tried to close it. Hyunjin tried to keep it open. It was a battle, but in the end, Hyunjin won. He shoved the door open, where Chan stumbled backwards. His face was full of pure fear, but Hyunjin didn’t process it as he lunged for him.

Chan barely had time to yell, “Felix, call the cops!” before Hyunjin had him by the throat and was slamming him against the wall. Chan looked terrified as Hyunjin put his face close to his, barely a hairsbreadth apart, and pressed the barrel of the gun into his stomach. From here, Hyunjin could see the terror in Chan’s eyes. He was practically paralyzed with it.

 _Good_.

“You. You gave me the wrong fucking potion,” Hyunjin snarled.

Chan tried to flinch away from him, but he didn’t have anywhere to go. “I did,” he whispered.

Hyunjin slammed him against the wall again. “ _Why_?”

“You needed to get off of it.”

“That’s not your call to make!” Hyunjin’s grip was tightening on Chan’s throat. Chan gasped as his hand instinctively went up to Hyunjin’s, to stop Hyunjin from tightening further. “It wasn’t for him or me—it was for someone else, someone who I would have been able to get rid of! And now because of you, we’ll have to kill him to shut him up or else the cops will come and arrest Jisung!”

“Jisung?” Chan whispered. His eyes widened as he put two and two together. “ _Han_ Jisung? This entire time, it’s been for _him_?”

“Shut up!” Hyunjin snapped. “Don’t you _dare_ say his name! Not when you’re the reason his entire life is ruined now. I was going to save him! I was going to make him happy! But then _you_ gave me the wrong fucking potion and _ruined everything!_ ”

“Good,” Chan spat back. “Rot in hell, you fucking _monster_.”

Hyunjin didn’t take kindly to that. He clenched his jaw, and the next thing he knew, he was emptying the gun into Chan’s gut.

There was a scream from his right, then another gunshot. Hyunjin felt this one. It burned right through his side, and he staggered. He looked to his right, where Felix stood, holding his own gun, though his hands were shaking so much that Hyunjin doubted he’d be able to hit him again.

The monster in Hyunjin wanted to raise the gun and shoot Felix too. Felix wasn’t innocent. Felix deserved to die just as much as Chan.

But the pain of the gunshot brought Hyunjin out of his rage. He took a step back, releasing Chan’s throat. Chan slid to the floor, leaving a smudge of crimson on the wall behind him. He reminded Hyunjin of Jisung, in a way.

Oh, god. What had he done?

He had a gun in his bloody hands. His fingerprints were all over Chan. And he was bleeding out. His blood was dripping onto the carpet in front of Chan, staining it.

In reality, he only hesitated for a second after Felix shot him. It felt longer, but after that he turned and ran. He stumbled out the door, down the hall, and down the stairs. When he reached his car outside, he collapsed into the driver’s seat and winced at the pain in his side.

He looked down at where he pressed his hand and swallowed thickly. His hand was covered in blood. It dripped onto the seat and soaked through his shirt and jacket. Somehow, Felix had hit something vital, judging by the way the blood was gushing out. Hyunjin was already feeling lightheaded and sick, though he had always been slightly queasy at the sight of his own blood.

He shook his head and focused on driving. He needed to get back to the house. Back to Jisung.

Jisung.

Had Hyunjin saved him? Or had he just condemned him completely?

Hyunjin blinked back the tears in his eyes and tapped the touchscreen on the dash. He pulled up Jisung’s phone number and pressed _call_.

“Pick up, pick up…” Hyunjin whispered to himself. He hoped that Jisung would be conscious enough to answer the phone, if the phone was even on or in reach. Oh, god, had it been in Jisung’s pocket when he fell? Was it completely crushed now?

The phone went to voicemail. Hyunjin called again, and again, until finally, someone answered.

“ _What_?”

“Jisung?”

“No, Seungmin. Yes, it’s me. Who the fuck did you think it’d be?” Despite his harsh words, Jisung’s voice was tight with pain.

Regardless, Hyunjin breathed a sigh of relief and tried to sound as normal as possible. He wasn’t going to make Jisung worried. Jisung didn’t need to know a thing.

“How are you feeling?” Hyunjin asked.

“How do you think?” Jisung snapped.

“What hurts?”

“Everything.”

“Did you break anything?”

“Why do you care? You throw me down a fucking staircase and then just leave me there and then call later to ask how I’m feeling? Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, _fuck you_.”

Hyunjin bit his lip as Jisung drew a shaky breath.

“I hate you,” Jisung said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hate you so much. I wish you were dead. You deserve to die.”

Hyunjin closed his eyes for a brief moment to compose himself, then winced at the pain in his wound. As he pulled back his hand, he glanced down. The bleeding was not slowing one bit. And now the lines on the road were becoming difficult to see. He decided to pull off, where he could focus on talking to Jisung.

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung. Hyunjin loved him so much. He thought his love for him was stronger than anything else in the world. He still thought that. With time, he could have proved that it was stronger than the monster within him.

But that didn’t matter now. Jisung didn’t love him at all.

“What, too shocked by that to respond?” Jisung spat over the phone. “It’s nothing you haven’t heard before.”

“I love you,” Hyunjin blurted before he could stop himself.

There was a beat of stunned silence before Jisung recovered and scoffed with just as much heat as before, “Shut the fuck up.”

“I will, soon,” Hyunjin said. “But I called you for a reason.” He reached up and rubbed at his eyes. “Can you do me a favor?”

“No,” Jisung said.

Hyunjin closed his eyes and leaned his head against the steering wheel. “Please?”

There was a beat, before Jisung scoffed, “I’m not killing Seungmin for you. I don’t want his blood on my hands. Though, I guess it doesn’t matter. They’ll find a way to blame it on me anyways.”

“No, they won’t,” Hyunjin said. “I need you to go into the office. In the desk, on the top drawer, there’s a hidden compartment. You get the hidden compartment by twisting the top knob to the left. Can you get what’s in that compartment out for me?”

“What is it?” Jisung asked. “Incriminating evidence?”

“Yes,” Hyunjin said. “Incriminating evidence of your parents.”

The other end went silent. Hyunjin felt himself slipping, and he quickly pulled himself out of it. But he could still feel the darkness lurking at the back of his mind, threatening to pull him back in.

“Jisung?” he asked. He needed to hear Jisung’s voice. If he closed his eyes, he could picture Jisung’s beautiful face. He’d never be able to see it again.

“I found it,” Jisung said. His voice sounded so distant. “You…when did you—?”

“Over the past few months,” Hyunjin said. “I told you, I was going to make you happy. This was part of it.”

“But _why_?”

“Because _I love you_.” The tears were welling up in Hyunjin’s eyes again. The pull of the darkness was getting stronger. “I love you so much, Jisung, and I know you don’t love me back, but I just need you to know that. I’m sorry I couldn’t have done any better, and I’m sorry for every single thing I did to you. You deserve better than me. You deserve so much better…you deserve all the love and safety and happiness in the world.”

“Hyunjin,” Jisung said, now starting to sound concerned. “Where are you?”

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin whispered. His vision was beginning to blur. “I’m so, so sorry…”

“Hyunjin, Where are you?! _Hyunjin_!”

That was the last thing Hyunjin heard. He slumped against the steering wheel as the darkness dragged him down, down, down.

*

The phone fell from Jisung’s hand. It hit the floor with a crunch, and yet Jisung didn’t hear it at all.

He couldn’t hear it over the blood roaring in his ears.

At one point, the pain in his head spiked, and he doubled over. He had to collapse into the cushioned desk chair in the office. The pain never went away, though it did subside enough for Jisung to process what had just happened.

Hyunjin was gone.

Something had happened. Something Jisung hadn’t been aware of at all. He wondered if he’d ever find out.

He tried to think about how he felt. Was he horrified? Distraught? Happy? Relieved? He didn’t know. He just felt numb.

That was a lie—he did know one thing. He knew that he was alone again. He knew that Hyunjin really was the only person he had, and now Hyunjin was gone. Maybe he did feel grief, then.

Where did he go from here? He looked down at the paper file on the desk in front of it, full of evidence against his parents. Hyunjin hadn’t left a single thing out. There was a transaction from some person named Bang Chan for the love potion, a complete testimony from Mrs. Jung of the entire plan and cover-up, and the results of Hyunjin’s tests from the hospital the night Jisung had been arrested. The results showed traces of the love potion.

It wasn’t enough, in Jisung’s opinion, but maybe it caused enough doubt and suspicion to reopen his case. He didn’t know for sure. He didn’t have much hope for it. He knew that the authorities in this town were bought, and his parents were the ones who bought them. He didn’t have a chance at walking free. He’d be right back into the mental institution, without hope of Hyunjin coming to save him.

Because Hyunjin was dead.

Jisung swallowed the lump in his throat. There were tears in his eyes. Maybe he was a little sad.

 _Yeah_ , he thought as he dropped his face into his hands and choked back a sob, _just a little._

*

Jisung let Seungmin go. He walked right up to the master bedroom and untied all the belts wrapped around Seungmin. He unlocked the cuffs. Then he stepped back and walked away as if in a daze, ignoring the questions and demands Seungmin shouted at him. Seungmin was smart. He’d figure it out.

Then Jisung went to the office, sat in the plush chair, and waited. It didn’t take long. Soon the police were kicking down the door and rushing into the house. It felt so familiar, like deja vu, as they grabbed Jisung and pressed him into the floor to handcuff his hands behind his back. He didn’t fight. There wasn’t a point.

It was as if he blinked, and then suddenly he was back in his room at the mental institution. No, not his room—it was different. There wasn’t a window. It felt more like a cement block cell. Everything was painted a light shade of gray. He didn’t get a chair. He just got a cot in the corner. He would have suspected that he had never left in the first place and that he had just imagined everything, but there was a noticeable bump on the back of his head and bruises on his throat that proved otherwise.

Since he had nothing else to do, he sat on his cot and stared at the wall.

*

Time passed. It could have been days. It could have been months, or even years. Jisung didn’t know. He couldn’t keep track of things anymore. He couldn’t even hold onto memories. The only memories he really had were of Hyunjin, and those slipped out of his grasp too quickly. Part of him wanted to hold onto them, because they were all he had left. Another part couldn’t care less.

It was all because of the pills that they gave him. They forced them down his throat when he refused to take them, so he took them willingly. He supposed taking them and passing his days in a daze was better than getting lost in his thoughts and feeling too much.

At one point, his nurses came to get him. They took him out of his room and walked him to another room, one with a table and windows and color on the walls. There was someone dressed in a sharp suit sitting at the table.

Jisung felt his heart sink at the sight. He didn’t know this visitor. He had hoped it would be Hyunjin, so he could either hug him or strangle him.

But it wasn’t Hyunjin. Hyunjin was dead. Hyunjin wasn’t coming to save him.

The stranger smiled at Jisung when Jisung sat down across from him and said, “Hello, Jisung. I’m Mr. Kim. I’m your lawyer.”

Jisung still didn’t know him. He kind of looked familiar.

They talked for hours or for a few minutes. Or, Mr. Kim talked. He asked a lot of questions. Jisung answered them the best he could, but his mind wandered too much for him to give lengthy answers. He didn’t even remember them. He did remember Mr. Kim asking him, “Did you do it?”

“No,” Jisung said.

After that, the nurses took Jisung back to his room.

It wasn’t long—or maybe it was—until Mr. Kim returned, this time with a set of clothes, which he placed at the end of Jisung’s cot. He told Jisung to change and get ready.

Jisung looked at the clothes. They were nice. A suit. Was he dressing for his funeral?

He wondered if he’d be buried with his family, in their section in the graveyard. Probably not. His family had disowned him. He’d be lucky if he got a headstone with his name on it.

Then he wondered if Hyunjin was buried in his family’s section. He wasn’t sure if he was angry or relieved at the thought of Hyunjin getting a headstone. Did Hyunjin deserve it? Or did he deserve an unmarked grave?

The nurses had to help Jisung get dressed, since he was too out of it to really comprehend anything. Apparently he had stared at his clothes for too long.

When he was dressed, they led him out of his room. He got into a car. Someone else—Mr. Kim?—drove him to a building he recognized. The courthouse. Jisung did not have fond memories of the place.

They led him inside, down the polished marble floors, and into a courtroom. His parents were there. They didn’t look happy to see Jisung, and Jisung wasn’t happy to see them. In fact, his rage snapped him out of whatever haze he had been in. He finally was able to process what was happening.

He was in court, with his parents. They were going through the case again, this time with different charges and new evidence. The evidence that Hyunjin had collected.

Jisung couldn’t believe it. Hyunjin had actually done it. He had gotten enough proof and dirt on Jisung’s parents to clear Jisung’s name.

Jisung felt like crying. He actually did cry when the jury returned and found him not guilty, and the judge cleared him of all charges, then turned around and charged his parents with kidnapping, perjury, tampering with evidence, and conspiracy, just to name a few. They were going to be in prison for a long, long time.

And even after the whole thing was over, Jisung still couldn’t believe it.

He was free.

They let him go home—to his real home. He got the whole house to himself. The court had given it to him, along with the whole family fortune. All of his parents’ business endeavors went to the government, but Jisung didn’t care. He didn’t want to be involved in that anyways.

When it was all over, he stood alone in his house, staring at all the furniture and wallpaper and art and other decorations that he had known for the most of his life. It was all his, now.

He didn’t want it.

He climbed the stairs to his room, though he hesitated as he reached for the doorknob. He looked to his left, at the closed door at the end of the hall. Without really processing it, he walked towards it and opened the door.

He half-expected Hyunjin to be lounging on the bed, for him to sit up when he heard the door open, for him to break into a smile when he saw Jisung there. But he also expected Hyunjin to lunge at him, to wrap his hands around Jisung’s throat, to slam him to the floor—

Jisung quickly shut the door before he could even see what the room looked like. He realized he didn’t want to know.

He went to his room instead, only to find that it was completely empty. His parents had gotten rid of all of his things. They had even replaced all of the photographs of him around the house.

He slept on the couch that night.

In the morning, Jisung called up his lawyer—Mr. Kim, still—and the family real-estate agent. He made sure to sell the entire property, and everything in it—family heirlooms included. He thought he was being generous and showing restraint; after all, if it had been up to him, he would have burned the whole place to the ground.

He put all of the money into a bank account—a _separate_ bank account, one that wasn’t associated with his family at all. He used some of it to buy a car. Not a fancy sports car or anything. Just a good, quality car that he knew would be reliable and blend in on the road. He planned on it taking him far, far away from here.

Within a month, he had everything arranged. He cut all ties from this town and was prepared to drive away. But there was one last thing he had to do.

*

The early morning light drifted over the smooth stone, illuminating the letters carved into it. Jisung knew what it said. He was more focused on the overwhelming amount of flowers decorating the fresh grave. He couldn’t help wondering if anyone would have left flowers on his own grave, had Hyunjin ever succeeded in killing him. Probably not.

The funeral had been a few days ago. Of course Jisung hadn’t been invited. He hadn’t even known about it until a few minutes ago.

He had seen some of it in the news. Hyunjin had been shot. But the man who had shot him wasn’t arrested, since it had been in self-defense after Hyunjin had forced his way into the apartment. Hyunjin had shot someone six times. Then, after he was shot himself, he turned and fled the scene. He bled out in his car on the side of the road.

Everyone said he died alone. Only Jisung knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

The news also said that Hyunjin had shot that person—Bang Chan—over a drug deal gone wrong. Jisung had recognized the name from the trials and from the evidence Hyunjin had collected. Bang Chan was the same man whom Jisung’s parents had gotten the love potion from. How Hyunjin had figured that out, Jisung had no idea. But he wasn’t really that surprised to find that Hyunjin had gotten involved in the love potion business. Nor was he surprised that Hyunjin had snapped and killed the dealer.

He wondered if Hyunjin would have gotten away with it, had he lived.

Jisung shook his head and looked down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. He crouched down and placed them on Hyunjin’s grave, though there wasn’t that much room.

He had a good view of Hyunjin’s headstone from down here. He wondered if Hyunjin was still watching him as he collected his thoughts.

“I used to hate you,” Jisung said. “I used to hate you so much…I still do, but not as much. I can’t hate you as much after what you did for me.”

He studied Hyunjin’s name carved into the stone.

“I’m leaving,” he said. “I’m cutting all ties and leaving town. I’m never coming back. This is goodbye.” He took a deep breath. “So, goodbye, Hyunjin. And…thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to get away from here if it weren’t for you. Even though I still hate you for what you did to me, I think you might have made up for some of it.”

The words practically fell from his mouth. He had planned them before coming here. He thought he’d feel peace after saying them, but they felt fake. Artificial. They left a bad aftertaste.

Which was why when he opened his mouth to speak the last few words, he found that he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

Instead, he whispered, “I came to make peace…to forgive you…but I _can’t_. I can’t forgive you. You were a monster. You hurt me over and over again. Clearing my name wasn’t for me—it was for _you_. For you and your selfish dreams. It was another one of your manipulations. If you lived, you were going to hold it over my head and guilt me into loving you back. Well, _fuck you_.”

There were tears in his eyes now.

“Fuck you, Hyunjin,” he spat. “I’ll never forgive you. And I hope you never find peace. You don’t deserve peace. You deserve to rot in hell for what you did.”

With that, he stood and kicked the bouquet away from the grave. His entire body felt like it was burning; he was out of breath and his throat felt raw. He blinked away angry tears before taking a deep breath to calm himself. When he was somewhat composed, he wiped his eyes and started to walk away.

He didn’t look back once.

Little did he know, someone was watching him from the trees. And they turned and followed him from a distance.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I know, Jisung cannot catch a break, he just keeps getting beat up. But, hey, he’s a survivor :]
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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